


An Elvhen Revolution: Freedom Will Sing

by Spade_Storm



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dragon Age Fusion, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Elvhenan, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ancient Elves (Dragon Age), Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dalish Elves, Elvhen Lore, Elvhen Pantheon, Elvhenan, Elvhenan Culture and Customs, Evanuris, F/M, Fen'Harel is God of Righteous Rebellion, Modern Girl in Thedas, Multi, Non-Canon Relationship, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Fen'Harel, Solas is Fen'Harel, Worldbuilding, slave rebellion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-01-26 11:08:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12556096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spade_Storm/pseuds/Spade_Storm
Summary: She was desperate to get away.  As far away as possible.When she's offered a new life, she takes it.  She just never expected what it would lead to; that she would be the change to rock the very foundation of Thedas.  It was not what she saw for herself but she isn't complaining, much.She always scorned the way of Thedas. Well. What she knew of it, of what it could become and she has no plans to just go along with it.When Rebellion and Freedom meet...history is changed.  Forever.(Original Character/Modern girl gives no shit for Thedas Canon.)





	1. The Escape

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a dream and turned into an idea that would not leave me alone. At all. It made it so hard to write my other stories because it kept slapping me in the face. My writer's block did not help either but here is the start of a long and ambitious piece of work. 
> 
> Its another Modern Girl in Thedas, Self-Insert Original Character. With Several Twist.  
> Starting in Ancient Thedas and moving forward. This Modern Girl has no intentions of being bound by Canon. 
> 
> (This came about after bing reading a bunch of Modern Girl/Solas fics and still feeling salty about a lot of Thedas Canon especially since I always played the elf. I also just got into the Dragon Age book series...so salty.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An introduction.
> 
> A Bargain to Freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have trouble seeing the images attached let me know!
> 
> All links have been double checked but you can never be too careful.

"The secret to happiness is freedom...the secret to freedom is courage." -Thucydides

* * *

Her plan is to run away.

She didn't know to where or how.  But she was going to do it.  Seventeen year old Alice Lambert is the only daughter of successful prosecutor, Philips Lambert.  She loved her father and she knew he loved her.  But after her mother, Carmen Lambert, was killed by a white supremacist during a social demonstration three years ago, he's never been the same.  Her brother, Alistair, didn't hesitate to follow in his footsteps.  

It was like...in a twisted and misguided attempt to keep her memory alive, they smothered, no, crushed all that she stood for.  Carmen had other children, too. Students who admire and look to her for guidance and help. As a Professor of History with an expertise in Civil rights, African American history, race and cities, urban history, gender, and sexuality, she is not a woman with air between her ears.  She took great pains for self-reflection and improvement.  She sought to live her life better each day and refused to stand idly by as injustice or cruelty was committed in front of her.  Alice remembered her mother as this fierce and fearless goddess of retribution.  She didn't care about the color of someone's skin or your faith or your background.  So long as you didn't go out of your way to antagonize others, she always saw the person first and everything else second.  Alice always found herself in awe of her mother and followed her like a duckling.

What little girl doesn't want to be like her amazing mother? (With exceptions to those with...extenuating circumstances, of course. Alice was not ignorant or arrogant enough to believe all mothers are good.  Carmen made sure of that.) 

When she died, Alice was there.  It was Alice who saw her mother killed.  Who pointed out the one responsible and even though she still cries on occasion, she also remembers her mother, still fierce, still fearless, and relentless, as she lunged at her attacker and took him down to the ground.  Its that last image that sticks her the most. 

That her mother did not cower even in the face of death.  So, she's endeavors to do the same.    

Its a different matter for her older brother and father.  Her mother's death was so much harder on them than on her and she's tried to make it easy on them, to help them understand like Alice did what made Carmen the woman they all loved.  She's tried to help them cope and move on because she's her mother's daughter and she knows Carmen would not have accepted this "wallowing", even years later.  Her brother and father have made some pretty stupid decisions.  They'd say they were being ambitious.

But recently, those decisions have effected her.  

Her dad wanted her to take lessons in singing, dancing, etiquette and so on.  She did because she hoped the lessons would give him a little more life.  She hoped they would grow closer together like before her mother's death.  It didn't.  The lessons just left her uncomfortable and annoyed.  Mostly.  The singing was fun and the argentine tango was a big help in letting her be comfortable with her body during that awkward phase during puberty.  But trying to learn an instrument was the same as going to war.  

She didn't bother to keep up with those sort of lessons and every time she argued back against her father, he got quiet about why she needed so many lessons.  Alice figured it had something to do with her mother as everything else seemed to.  She agreed to other lessons though.  Self-defense lessons in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu was something they managed to compromise on.  Alice wasn't a master or anything but she was experienced enough to defend herself and she had fun learning.  

Plus, it was a good work out without actually have to using weights or machines.  

It made her feel really good about herself.  Something she needed because it wasn't just her family that was testing her limits but her peers, too.  As a prosecutor, its expected her family has money and that's not including the investments her brother and father made.  So the private school she attended was full of kids from similar backgrounds.  The guys thought she was a pretty score with light brown hair, blue eyes and a fair complexion as a potential wife to invest in for later.  But Alice liked games, anime and dressed up for comic con just as she much as she went out to march or protest in demonstrations.  That made her an outsider, an outcast.  So the other girls only saw competition but one they were sure they could break.  When she didn't, they hated her even more.

School is a constant struggle.  

And now, her home, the place she was born and grew up, was turning into a place she no longer recognized.  

The beginning of the summer of her senior year her father tells her that on graduation, she'll be engaged to Dylan Royce, the son of Delaware's Governor.  The argument that followed that news was...explosive.  It was the first fight she's really had since her mother died.  It wasn't the last.  They fought everyday since and Alistair tried to stay out of it but Alice only needed to see his expression once to know he agreed with their dad.

The reason?  Safety.  That someway, somehow, being married to Royce will protect her from all the bad in the world.  

And she'll have even more protection when Royce Senior runs for president.  Alice saw red.  Flames and blood red.  She doesn't remember half of what she said beyond how delusional they were if they thought she was seriously going through with their plans for her.  It was her life and damn if she was going to give up to be some spoil brat's brood mare.  

Retaliation was swift.  Her car and money were cut off.  She was driven to school, to practice and to "dates" with Dylan.  Were she anyone else she'd probably think him attractive.  short cropped blonde hair curly at the ends, hazel eyes, and lightly tanned skin with a clean shaven beard.  He wasn't stupid or arrogant like a Draco Malfoy or someone equally unbearable.  He's three years older than her, a nice guy, yeah, with a sure and set plan for the future.

That's part of the problem.  His set plan is already laid out for him.  By his family.  

Alice had no plans to be a puppet to her family.  Her mother raised her to be better than that.  But that doesn't help her.  It doesn't help her find away out of what's been done.  Already rumors have started at school and with them the whispers.  It wouldn't be so bad.  Usually she could ignore them but as school starts, they become unbearable.

* * *

_"Is that her?"_

_"The wild child finally gets collared."_

_"I bet Royce will be suped when he plucks her cherry!"_

Whispers and backward glances.  Leers and smirks.

_"You think he'll be into all that dressing up? Bet she's an amazing fuck with all that acting."_

_"You think Royce will share the juicy details? I mean with his inner circle?"_

_"Nope.  Guy's a possessive little shit.  No ones getting a look at what's under his wife's skirt."_

_"She's gotta be **tight** , though." _

The gossip at her back and the giggles they don't try to hide.

_"She must be treated like a princess."_

_"Royce likes to give her expensive gifts.  Think she's put out already?"_

Over and over and over.  Like a broken record on repeat or a bridge groaning under the weight of expectations. 

* * *

After an entire summer and now school...its inevitable that she would reach her breaking point.  Thus, the plan to run away.  Its crazy and insane and highly likely to fail but she can't not do it.  The noose is tightening.

Suffocating.

She cannot do it alone and Alice goes to the only person she calls friend, Willow Nightingale.  In the safety of Willow's back office, Alice finally shatters.

* * *

The Bell, Book and Candle is a store that specializes in the otherworldly or magic or wiccan magic.  Alice just preferred "other" to stay neutral.  Willow is her only true friend, who just happens to be a "good witch" but that part Alice didn't pay too much attention too even when complaining about magic from her favorite games and anime.  She is also the only one Alice trusted enough to breakdown with.

Willow had a small office in the back, it was warm and cozy.  There were pillows and a small tea table.  Alice didn't like tea but Willow had no problem making her friend a cup of hot chocolate.      

"Are you sure there isn't anyway you can talk to your dad? I mean, he has to see how wrong this is."

Willow Nightingale is a good witch who comes from a long line of witches.  The store she owns belonged to her great grandmother, who used her talents to help the people of the town prosper and grow.  Now, it is Willow's and while few remember or acknowledge her heritage, that does not mean she has.  Willow takes great pride in her family and where she is from.  

"No. He's beyond the point of listening to me. Its for my safety he'll say." She takes a sip of her hot chocolate, face flushed and cheeks streaked with tears.

"Alistair?"

"Daddy's little boy through amd through." She sighs, "He thinks marrying up will save me and that having kids will mellow me out."

"They didn't say that."

"Didn't have to."

"But will running away make everything better?" Willow asks curiously. "Will it solve anything?"

"It will if it keeps me from killing myself."

The room goes still and Willow almost forgets to breathe. "Alice..."

"I will not be a slave to duty. To a man I don't love. To my family's fear and grief." Alice crumbles again but its an angry ugly break. "I will not bow to something I dont believe in! I wont surrender to a life I want no part in! I wont become like those prissy money grubbing dolls at school! I'm my mother's daughter for fucks sake! And I'll either live that way or I'll die that way."

Her last words are growled through clenched teeth. A declaration of intent. Of promise.  And Willow can see her friend clearly, her soul, her thoughts and the depths of her heart.  The sense of freedom and self worth instilled into her soul since birth and nurtured by her mother's warmth and understanding, burns as brightly as it screams within her.  Alice will not compromise in this. She will not sacrifice herself for wealth or status. The brunette will not prostrate before a congregation for forgiveness. Or a man or a king or a monster. The teen will rail against the world if she has to, clawing and biting until she bleeds out, only to keep going until not even ash remains.

Willow does not believe, no, she _knows_ the lengths the seventeen year old will go to. Alice burned so furiously that she'd rather burn out than bow her head.

"There may be a way..." She sighs weakly. Willow doesn't want to lose her friend but at the same time she doesn't want to _lose_ her friend...

"A secret passage out of the country?" Alice asks tired but freshly determined.

"Not quite."

The witch whispers and opens the locked chest hidden in her armory.  She takes a single sheet of parchment, ink pots of different colors and an elaborate feather pen.  She goes to the front of the store to make sure all is secure, the lights are off and the curtains are down.  She doesn't speak again until she's back in the room and all the items are on the table. When she speaks, her voice is low and soft.

"During the witch hunts," she starts and Alice leans in to listen, "when it looked truly dire, many sought gateways to other world. They sought an escape. Other Earths, other times and places, other planets and people. Realms completely different than our own. You know some of them though, like Middle Earth for example."

"What?!" The teen's eyes grew wide and she whispered back, "How do you know that?"

"To cross the gateway an anchor is needed. So while many cross the barrier to a new world, there are those who chose to remain so that others may have a better chance. As an anchor, those who used themselves to bridge two realms together temporarily, they catch a glimpse of what lay on the other side."

"Like Middle Earth."

"Yes, exactly." Willow smiled sadly, "But there is a cost. A price."

"Magic usually does." Alice nodded understanding from her massive profile of fantasy games and anime, "A balance between give and take just like with anything else."

"To cross the gate, you have to cut all ties to this world. You can never come back. And if you cross without doing so, you lose yourself entirely. You become what you would be in that world. It's hard to explain since I've never done it. But..."

Willow grapples with a way to explain.

"Like slaves escaping the south? Taking on disguises and new skills and things like that?"

"Not quite but close enough. They can't go back for obvious reasons but they also can't go forward if they are always looking back. Oh! Think of it like that author of Black Like Me."

"The guy who pretended to be a black man? How would that...oh...you mean his identity."

"Yes. Drastically, yes." 

"So...I wouldn't be Alice anymore? That's..."

"You have to remember that there are an infinte number of realms you can end up. Some are peaceful or at war. Some intersect and some are absolutely the most lonely places in the entire universe. However, just as you are Alice here, there could be an Alice there. Its the name and all that comes with it. You cannot be Alice Lambert even though she'll always be a part of you. If you go through with this, you'll be starting over."

For what seemed like a long time there was silence as Alice stared at the blank parchment.  

"I'll do it." The teen whispers before raising her head. "Even if I ran away the normal way, I'd have to change my name and everything about me to try and outsmart my father and the Governor Royce. This way I know they can't get to me. I'll do it.  What do I do?"

"Okay." Willow took a deep breath. "This parchment will be your portrait.  The further from Alice you make it, the more you retain and the easier it will be to cross the gate.  If you can arrive at the gate in a mirror image of your portrait, even better.  Consider the portrait your ticket and boarding pass.  On Samhain, I'll take you to the preservation and to the last known gate.  Once you go through, that's it.  That gate will never open again."

"Samhain?"

"All Hallows Eve." Willow smiles. "Your favorite holiday."

Alice laughs and for the first time all day Alice physically perks up, light shining in her eyes. "And I can be anything I want?"

"So long as you can show up exactly like your portrait.  Go crazy."

Willow smiles at her friend's renewed enthusiasm.  The teen was a very good artist when it comes to pencil and pen.  Its how she's been able to make her own personal income.  Alice has made hundreds to thousands of sketches for other artist, cosplayers, and even designers.  Drawing has always uplifted her spirits and given the daunting task ahead of her, a little joy isn't a bad thing.

Alice takes the quill pen and starts to sketch on the parchment using careful strokes.  She draws the beach front of Koapni Village from her most recent game, Monster Hunter Stories, with cat creatures called Felynes, standing on their hind legs, smiling, playing in the sand and the water.  Alice draws herself, or well what she imagined herself as for Halloween this year.  Alice had asked one of her cosplay clients for help making a costume and had chosen the character from a popular anime named Asuna Yuuki from Sword Art Online.  Of course, she picked a character that wasn't human because what is a bigger trade off than one's species?  She decided to pick the [undine ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/60/74/14/6074144ddf662c41d9a4f5ed637edc97.jpg)version which includes elf ears and colored hair.  The armor is a blue and white feminine skirt set with a matching [sword](http://animebibly.com/otaku/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/41AzW0fqiRL.jpg).

On her wrist, was a black and blue band like a watch and in the center is a blue stone.  Alice's version of the [kinship ](http://www.dageeks.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/10/Monster-Hunter-Stories-Ride-On-Episode-1-Review-Kinship-stone-look-Image-DAGeeks-e1476678273908.png)stone worn by Riders and behind her new self is Rathas, the dragon partner from the game.  Only Alice has a serious issue with the developer's definition of "dragon".  The game is more for players half her age but she enjoyed it. So for her portrait she made Rathas more [mature](https://abstract.desktopnexus.com/get/1940605/?t=6l511hlq03qqui98cdvsm9pgk459f639a9c57dc), bigger, stronger, and with four forelegs instead of two.  She drew her dragon friend with thin trails of smoke from his nostrils and sparks of lightening from his wings, a puff of pride in his posture, a spark of mischief in his eyes and a bit of a smirk on his draconic maw.    

Alice didn't color her hair the same blue as Asuna because she didn't want to be her.  So, she carefully colored her hair a soft [platinum ](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/cf/08/58/cf085852229524453736e2306d23c4eb--light-blonde-hair-blonde-hair-colors.jpg)blonde.  She doubted wearing a wing would be considered a drastic change in identity enough because now that she knew what she was doing, she fully intended on going all out.  

"How's this for a start?"

"Its good." Willow laughs and relaxes in her seat. "That's a definite drastic enough change.  More than enough to fulfill the price needed to cross over."

"It still feels kind of..."

"Lacking?"

"Yeah."

"Huh." Willow says thoughtfully. "Well, we still have time and so long as the portrait isn't sealed before the 31st, you can add what you need.  Nothing big!"

Alice laughs heartedly, relieved.  

* * *

The next several days are a blur.  

She does nothing to hide her scorn or contempt.  Even as she lies to her father and agrees to the engagement.  Once her credit is given back to her, she starts to burn through it by buying two new tablets, the latest on the market and loading them.  One for personal use and one for work, whatever the latter might be.  She added music, movies and her favorite tv shows she hasn't finished watching.  

The books she never got around to getting she downloaded without remorse.  Her favorite kid books, romances, thrillers, and classics for her own library.  On the other she downloaded anything she could get her digital hands on.  Engineering, science, history, herbology, and DIY books.  Alice didn't know where or when she might end up and she wanted to be suitably prepared.

Books on camping and survival were included.  There were text on navigation and philosophy and sociology.  Any and every subject were targeted because she didn't want to be caught off guard.  There dozens of recipe books, too.  Chocolate cakes, cookies, and other confections for special holidays.  If she was just a bit afraid of being homesick and a touch desperate to hold just a little bit of home...Willow carefully didn't mention it.

On the other hand, if she decides to become an evil overlord she'll need help to keep it going.  Maybe.  At Willow's unimpressed look, Alice laughs herself to tears and lets the witch pick a few dozen books on governments and monarchies throughout history to download.

Nothing like being prepared for entering an unknown society.  

* * *

Alice didn't intend to show any hint of her intention to leave.  So, she packed one suitcase and placed a few of her physical books, like the newest translation for Night, Bluest Eyes, etc.  They were her mother's favorites because they reminded her why people should never become complacent and why apathy is something that everyone should fear.  They don't take up much space and the teen filled the rest with only essential camping gear including a couple solar chargers and some spare clothes.  

Once that's done, she takes the suitcase to Willow for safe keeping and finally adds what's been missing from her portrait.

"An eagle?"

"I've been seeing it in my dreams ever since you mentioned the gate to me."  Drying on the parchment was a newly drawn Golden Eagle, powerful and majestic as it soared above Rathas unhindered by the sun or wind.  "It felt wrong not to include her in my portrait.  Its almost like..."

"Like she's guiding you." Willow finishes gently.

"Yeah."

Willow gives Alice a different pen this time and tells her to sign her new name at the bottom and with a flourish, the portrait is done.  The older woman puts everything else away but for one pen, older and delicate looking.  Willow gently pricks Alice's finger with the tip and with a tap onto the parchment, seals it.  The teen visibly brightens at her first look at real magic.  

* * *

With her suitcase packed and her tablets gaining a steady stream of different playlist, Alice spent the rest of her time preparing to leave and pampering herself.  She threw herself into her studies and her jitsu practice.  She finished all of her standing projects for her clients and sold her car.  Half of the cash she placed in a spare satchel for Willow for whatever she wanted.  

The other half she used at the spa.  

Seriously.

Alice is not far from leaving all that she knows forever.  She's going to enjoy the last luxuries while she still can.  So a full body care package every other day is a must.  Its no doubt the best decision she's made because her skin has never felt so good or so clean.  The week of Halloween Alice got her hair done in the same shade as her portrait.  She made sure it was carefully and organically dyed because there was no way she was allowing bleach anywhere near her hair.

* * *

"Alice, how was today?"

Dinner with her father is stilted and cold even when surrounded by decadent furniture and warm colors.  She loved him and missed his warm hugs and bright optimism.  But as much as she loved him she refused to suffer for his ambitions and misguided grief.  

"Fine."

"Just fine?" 

"Mhmp."

"And how did your date go?"

"Fine." He sighs.  Alice forces herself not to roll her eyes or sigh back at him and mentally braces for another lecture.

"Dylan is a good guy." He starts. "He's been raised to be respectful, considerate and strong.  He's got a good head on his shoulders and he'll take care of you.  That's all I want for you, you know.  For you to be safe and cared for."

"Yeah. I know."

"You say that but don't show like you care."

"I don't."

"Alice!" Her father can't seem to decide how to feel about her confession.  She doesn't want leave with their relationship so negative but at the same time she doesn't want him to try and stop her.  How many people get the chance to start over?

"I love you." She did, with all of her heart, but her life isn't his to do with as he pleased, even if its what he thinks is best.  "And I appreciate everything you do for me.  For everything you've given me.  For every effort you've made to give me a life not everyone can have.  But you can be really dumb."

Alice gets up and leaves the table.  She's a little surprised he doesn't call her back but decides it's probably better this way. 

* * *

On the eve of Halloween she went to the spa for the last time.

That afternoon she went home and started her transformation.  Alice took great care with every application.  With her hair to her prosthetic ears, every motion is done precisely and without any rush.  She made sure none of her hair is caught by her ears and that the makeup for her ears also matched her complexion.  Then she started on the make up for the rest of her face which wasn't much, just some light bronzer and carefully lined kohl placed to highlight her eyes.  

She puts on her outfit making sure that there are no loose seams or tears.  It fits her perfect, emphasizing her every curve.  Reaching to pick up the handmade sword and her kinship watch, Alice finished attaching her final accessories to her waist and wrist, respectively.  Finally looking at herself in the full length mirror in her room, Alice takes a deep breath and lets it go.

"Well, I definitely look different." Like a elf warrior princess or something, going on an adventure.  

Alice makes sure her tablets have finished downloading the last of her purchases, turns them off and packs them into her last bag, a light blue messenger bag.  After a quick twirl in her new look, closes her bedroom door for the last time and makes her way to the kitchen for a few...travel snacks.  She grabs the newest jar of Nutella and a box of Funny Bones because this may be the last time she every gets a chance to have them.   

Her father is in his office talking on his phone.  So she slips out the back door and makes her way to Willow's home.  

* * *

 

At the center of the preservation is a massive naturally formed archway.  The wood wraps around each other and flower of various colors and shade bloom.  She doesn't recognize any of the flowers but Willow stops her right in front of the walkway.

"This is it. No going back."

"Yeah. Yeah."

She takes a slow breathe and releases it.  The portrait felt warm in her hand.  Solid and alive.  Alice wasn't sure if it was really alive or if it was just her imagination.

In a few moments it won't really matter.

"A new life. One step away. How many people get to say that and mean something like this?"

"I imagine not a lot." Willow gives a small smile. "But if you're going to go, now's the time. Midnight's coming."

"Right." Turning to her friend, Alice doesn't try to stop her tears. "You be careful. Don't get in trouble."

"I won't. No one will know I was ever involved. Perk of being an anchor." 

The next second they're holding onto each other.  They dont know who started it but it doesn't matter.  Their lives are changing this very second. 

"Its time, Alice." Willow whispers into her hair.

Without a word the girls part. Alice faces the archway and than rushes through. The portrait burns in her hands but she doesn't let go...and that's the last conscious thought she has.

Willow stands, vigil, as her friend disappears forever on the other side. Images flash across her mind, glimpses of the world she's been connected to.  She sees the people, the kingdoms, the possibilities that lay before her...

...and smiles.

"Show them what you're made of."

Her way back home is lighter than she thought it would be.


	2. Arrival: A New Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Thedas...kind of...
> 
> This is NOT canon!
> 
> ...Fuck it. Still feeling salty!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have trouble opening the links in the story PLEASE let me know!!!
> 
> Also, Fen'Harel's eyes are gold grey and that is an actual color. It looks like a mix of light blue green and yellow. Its very pretty. You can look it up and see the examples. 
> 
> This also ties in with an aspect of the story I'm using where gold colored eyes are a sign of divinity in the Elvhen. Of which there are only the Evanuris. 
> 
> With that, Enjoy!!

**"The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion."** **-Albert Camus**

 _1 FA:  Arlathan is founded some three thousand years before the arrival of humans on the continent.  The date is so far removed from recorded history that it is difficult to pinpoint in Chantry years._  

* * *

She dreams for a long time. Or she thinks its a long time. Over a thousand lifetimes spent in a dream.  A dream over a thousand lifetimes long.  Each one is her and a friend of hers and a teacher.  Each one is a character, a figment of a story played time and time again.  

Fighting to reach the tip of a floating castle. Terror and determination and hope pounding inside her pulse.   

Crossing swords with a fairy in dark armor. Joy and elation and power thrumming in her blood.

Racing along open plains, powerful muscles carrying her leagues and leagues to battle against darkness.  The world enveloped in Twilight and her form twisting, turning. Fang and claw and fur brimming with magic and power.  An engineer facing an ever growing madness and disease. Rejecting complaceny and depression. Fighting the unrelenting horde and purging them with fire and steel. A soldier, a dead man walking, marching to war.  Against genocide and apathy.  A group of teens plunging into the depths of darkness, inspite of fear and death, to face the darkness within an entire species.  Fighting against _Death_ and _Fog_ and _God_!  

Soaring through the air on massive wings. Hot and cold currents passing by with hardly a second glance. A friendship spanning across all the realms.

And more and more and thousands upon thousands of lives lived.  A symphony of joys and sorrows and adventures.  A collection of souls who've triumphed against injustice and cruelty and annihilation.  Against _fate_! They are her and she is them.

_Thou art I._

_I am Thou._

A quiet voice speaks out amongst them all. Quiet but strong. Sure of her sense of self. It is the beginning. The core. And the ending, grounding all others.

But not The End.

Alice but Not.  A sacrifice was given.  A price was paid.

A new Life is hers to make.

Blue eyes open.

* * *

Waking up is a long process, the feeling of being so content, you don't want to greet the waking world.  Like being buried under warm and fluffy comforters after a cold thunderstorm. The feeling of clean towels fresh out of the dryer. The urge to marinate in that warmth is strong but she manages to fight it and look around.

Her vision is blocked by burnt orange. 

It is and is not surprising to her. She is laying next to a warm body, living and breathing. Powerful beyond measure. Still she turns over fully to place a hand on his hide. He is huge. Bigger than in the game and she's actually _touching_ him.

"Rathas."

The dragon turns his head, massive horns and scales turn to peer down at her. Both eyes stare into hers even though one has his signature scar.  Her hand moves with every breathe he takes, a gentle rise and fall. Rathas slowly lowers his head to rest next to her and she realizes she was sleeping next to his chest, protected on all sides by his own body. She reaches out another hand to touch his cheek and the dragon (heavens and all the gods ever an _actual_ dragon! She's touching an actual _dragon_!!)makes a half purr, half growl like sound. She runs her hand along his cheek, petting and scratching him to her heart's content.

She stops only to roll over onto her hands and knees. Its awkward. Her limbs feel stretched to their limits and at the same time so stiff. She sits up, not worried about any dangers around her or who may be watching and works feeling back into her limbs.  She massages her fingers first, gently before really working them into the tender tissue.  She reaches up to her neck and hair. Feeling how foreign and familiar it is. She massages her own scalp and her breath hitches at the light touch upon her ears. 

Her ears.

Carefully, she moves her hair over her ears. Her very elfish ears. She glides her hands over the senstive lobes to the tips and shivers. She touches the space where the prosthetic used to be and can find nothing. 

She's an elf. 

A bright laugh escapes her lips and just as quickly, it stops. Blue eyes grow wide in shock. Her laugh is hers, no doubt, but its got a bell like quality to it. She didn't notice the change earlier, too distracted by her dragon to pay any attention to it.  Rathas chuff at her. No doubt his way of laughing at her. She leans against him and laughs fully, then. It echoes all around her.  She did it. She really did it. Alice who is not Alice anymore is here and she remembers who she used to be and everything in between.  

"I'm going to need a new name, Rathas. Any suggestions?"

He snorts at her and lays his head back down to watch her. She giggles like the giddy teenager she should be before rising to her feet.  She's unsteady at first but she's determined to enjoy her new life and she can't do that sitting on the ground.  She manages to make it past Rathas' massive wings only to stop one more time in shock and awe.  The dragon had chosen a hollowed out tree trunk for a den to sleep and protect her in.  Its a huge tree, as wide as any skyscraper but beyond the safety of the den is a forest she's never seen the like back on Earth.  

(Which is to be expected because she isn't on Earth anymore.  She _knows_ this.)

Its glowing.  The entire forest was full of bioluminescent light.

"Beautiful."

She turns in a careful circle, well aware how shaky her balance is, and doesn't stop even as Rathas trails after her.  The trunk they emerged from sat alone on an incline with only one way in and out.  Overhead a thick canopy blocks out the night sky but she can see just enough to know it is most definitely not day time.  But that was fine because the forest was the most beautiful thing she's ever seen.  She starts along the path out into the forest, secure with the sound of Rathas' heavy and confident footsteps behind her.

Walking for a few moments leads her into a wide open expanse of the forest and she gets a truly breathtaking view of the [world ](https://secure.parksandresorts.wdpromedia.com/media/disneyparks/blog/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/01_ParksBlog_PandoraMerchArt_FEATURE.jpg)she now gets to call home.  Unknown plants and mushrooms glow in various shades of blue, violet, and green.  Even the air felt different.  Sweeter and lighter than anything she's ever known.  The newly born elf continues her journey, twirling as she went.  Each step is more freeing than the last.  The whole world is open to her.  She can feel the pulsing of the [river ](http://cdn5.thr.com/sites/default/files/2017/02/navi_river_journey_pandora.jpg)tide and the branches of the tree as they sway in the breeze.

She stops briefly to peer over at the water's edge.  Looking into the crystal clear water, she can see herself for the first time.  Its [her ](http://cdn.playbuzz.com/cdn/1fcc3a88-46df-4f56-8305-59958b028b22/c120bda3-97c0-4df7-80cb-7688bab2e958.jpg)and not her.  Its the new her and its both familiar and strange.  She's pretty but she's always been pretty.  The eyes are her's and the lips and cheeks and everything is her.  But softer?  Smoother.  More ethereal and fantastical than is humanly possible.

"Revas..."she pauses for a second, thinking of the right word, the right sound before turning back to Rathas. "...sulahn.  Revasulahn.  That's me.  That's my name."

The dragon touches his mouth and nose to her stomach and gives a content hum.  She can feel his heartbeat.  His joy and his tranquility.  The birds and the critters that scurry across the forest floor, curious and cautious.  The world pulses all around her, alive.  Real.  She curls her arms around Rathas head, holding as much of him as she can reach.

"This is home now."

It feels good to say.  Now, all that's left is to find out what's in it.

* * *

"Hey Granny! You felt that?!" 'Granny' or 'Grandma' as the felynes know her, smiled at the fluffy and sentient creatures.

"Yes, dearies.  She's a nice girl.  No worries."  She is an elderly elvhen with black hair and gray ends plaited into a long braid.  

"Fuuuuurrrrreal?!" The creatures who call Koapni Village and even further, Naupaka Island home are called Felynes, a species of cats who walk on their back legs and talk like people.  There are none beside Granny who know of them and Grandma's true name is unknown, lost to the winds of time.  Perhaps she is the first of the Elvhen, the one whom all others came from.  Or mayhap she is one of the many firsts who lived and is now the last to know how the elvhen came to be.  The millennia of ages she has seen and lived are etched into every wrinkle.

"Of course.  Do be a dear and fix up a place for her?"

"Sure Grams!"

She closes her eyes and sees the new life that burns so bright.  No doubt she isn't the only one to notice her.  But Granny will not let the new Guide be crushed by the will of her kin.  Guides are rare and few enough without arrogant nobles trying to play their games.  Guides are open to the world in a way that the average mage is not.  The old elvhen knows the young elvhen girl will need to be taught all that she knows about the world she now calls home.  Especially as a Guide who will one day meet her Sentinel. 

There is no question whoever they are, they're aware that she's awake and will begin searching for them.  Fortunately, Grandma's power keeps the island hidden, secret and safe.  But the Guide will want to explore and she should be able to without fear of what may befall her.  The least Granny can do is make sure she's properly prepared.  Although her companion will make a formidable guard, he will not be able to follow her everywhere she goes.  

Shame, that.  Dragons are quick deterrents for stupidity.    

Many of the elvhen need a good scare to wake them up, too.  They've stagnated for far too long.

* * *

"It has been a long time my friend.  Long enough one would think."

"That one is not me and it certainly isn't _Andruil_."  He spits her name like a curse. 

[Fen'Harel ](https://wambamzamzam.weebly.com/uploads/4/9/5/2/49522507/285905013.jpg)paces Myhtal's study.  He is a gorgeous man, Mythal admits privately to herself.  She can see why her daughter desires him to much.  Form fitting armor and finely elaborate stitched tunic emphasize his physique and highlight his immortal complexion. Piercing gold-grey eyes, wolf mantle over his shoulders, and a bone crown denote his status as the Wolf God.  He's certainly bedded plenty of maidens but since his awakening, he's accepted no one into his chambers.

"That will not stop her from trying." Mythal starts neutrally from her seat.  She chooses her words with care.  "It is only a casual dalliance. What harm can it do?"  

Sentinels are highly prized elvhen since their senses are elevated above the normal elvhen.  They are stronger, more agile, and even their magic is greater than the average elvhen.  Fen'Harel is the only Sentinel among the Evanuris and it gives him an incredible amount of power.  Sentinels are also prone to territorial bouts and can be incredibly violent.  After a time, without a Guide, they become violent towards themselves and others.  Thus binding the Sentinels with a vallslin, blood writing, to keep them stable.  However, the vallaslin only works on Sentinels who are willing.  Any attempts to force the blood writing sends the Sentinels into a feral and violent frenzy.  

"What harm? Do you mean to say you cannot think of one?  I can think of several!" Fen'Harel stops and snarls at her. "Including binding me and usurping the place of my Guide!"

His fangs elongate, eyes turn scarlet red, and the whites of his eyes turn as black as the void.  Mythal very carefully does not tense at the sight of her friend's fury and not for the first time, curses her daughter's rash behavior.  She knows she cannot push him on this anymore.  Although she wanted her friend to mate with her daughter she did not want to risk gaining his ire.  For all that Fen'Harel cares for the people, he can be incredibly cruel.  Not for the first time, Mythal feels a spark of fear pierce her heart.  This was a god to be wary of, to be feared.  Should Fen'Harel turn his fury against her, she isn't so sure of her victory.  

"I mean no offense.  But you understand my concern."

"Save your platitudes." he scoffs, eyes still red. "I'll not replace my Guide for _Andruil_."

He marches out of her study without looking back.  If he were anyone else, turning his back to her and leaving her study without her permission in clear dismissal would be so insulting that she would not be able to resist retaliating.  However, given his current state, she doesn't doubt that he'd know she was attacking before she ever finished casting.  As it stands, him leaving and forcing her to trail after him in an attempt to keep him from pulling away from her completely will start rumors.  Rumors she cannot afford.  

Both Mythal and Fen'Harel have common goals and sentiments, making an alliance assured.  That alliance led to an easy friendship that has benefitted both gods on multiple fronts.  It is an alliance that has remained strong even in the quake of the other Evanuris questionable actions with the people.  Mythal has made steps to curve some of their more...ruthless actions concerning the people. But any further planning requires Fen'Harel remaining stable.  They also require she stay in his good graces.  She knows if he leaves permanently, much of the progress she's made to move the rest of the Evanuris to what she envisions will be lost.  If the Forgotten Ones don't finish them off first.

"I do not mean insult my friend.  But these are delicate times and The People need you at your best Fen'Harel.  If it helps I offer my own protection in place of my daughter."

She offers, keeping her tone neutral but also pressing his importance to the people.  The People looked to Fen'Harel for protection because of his being a Sentinel.  Other Sentinels sought his favor and protection because he remained unmarked and vigilant for his Guide.  This means that the trickster has the largest contingent of Sentinels of all the gods.  It is why his ascension to divinity, while expected, is stronger than the others, including her own when they first ascended.      

"Protection from what?" Fen'Harel stops in the middle of her Eluvian courtyard, intent clear. The look he gives her is daring, challenging.

"You are not weak." She does not rise to the bait. "But you are vulnerable, my friend, and I would not have you succumb like so many others before you."  Mythal hopes it is enough to keep him near and that subtly reminding him of the fate of his kin will make him a little more susceptible to her will. 

Fen'Harel is in no mood for Mythal's games.  He is more than just a god, more than just a Sentinel.  He is both and all the stronger for it.  Fen'Harel has managed to out maneuver everyone for several hundred years.  First by hiding just when he truly awoke and again by causing just enough discord among the Evanuris to make his Guide a low priority.  During those first few centuries, he traveled and sought instruction of the rarest of spirits.  He learned from them how to hide his talents and how to best utilize his new abilities.  Not only that, they pushed him to his absolute limits and constantly pushed those limits further still.  Fen'Harel learned also how to cope without his Guide and in turn taught such techniques to other Sentinels.    

So it is no surprise to him that he can smell her intentions.  Her desire to play her games and have him play some part.  He can hear the magic thrum through her as she plots and plans for whatever future suits her.  She is his friend but for all that he cares for her, he tires of her need to play her games with him. 

"Andruil will also not stop and I tire of this _inconvenience_ between you too."

He tires even more of Andruil and her obsessive need for him.  He tires of the Evanuris and their barbaric treatment of the People.  He tires of their interest in his lack of a soul bond.  The Forgotten Ones were not too different.  They wanted him to attain greater power with his Guide and encouraged his search.  Or barring his lack of one, the chaos he can reign upon the land.  It was both petty and annoying that his Guide is treated like a commodity.  Like a tool to be used to someone's advantage or disadvantage.  Fen'Harel is of the traditional school of thought that a Guide is a Sentinel's missing soul piece.  

His Guide is essential to the wellbeing of his soul. 

But it is not a weariness that seeps into him.  It was a lack of patience that burned within him.  He knows not how the Evanuris or the Forgotten Ones met.  Although, given what he has learned of Andruil, he can guess.  Fen'Harel can feel his tolerance for them running thin.  

"What you think is irrelevant."  he growls to her and turns to walk away. 

The Sentinels he arrived with stand at attention, more than ready to leave.  Fen'Harel may be without his Guide but he is not without his sense or his cunning.  The Evanuris and the Forgotten Ones seem to forget that.  Well, if they needed a reminder he is more than happy to rectify that.  Already plans and strategies start to form.  It is time he set an example and he knows exactly who to start with.  He takes a step, mind clear.  It is the last thought he has.  

Fen'Harel collapses. The Sentinels swarm him, snarling at Mythal and the other guards of her palace. 

_The Realm of Spirits has always fascinated the Trickster God and it is the reason for his interest in the Fade and spirits.  The Realm of Spirits exist as a separate entity to the Fade.  Still there are differences that tell Fen'Harel that he is not Dreaming.  His spirit animal forms in front of him, a massive black wolf the size of a work horse with six blue eyes._

_"Fennas."_

_They throw their head back and howl, long and haunting.  An answering shriek follows and Fen'Harel snaps his gaze around to find the origin.  A useless action as another spirit dives from the sky, an eagle gold and bronze, dancing around Fennas before flying into the distance.  Fennas gives chase and Fen'Harel doesn't hesitate to follow.  He knows what this means, who that spirit belongs to.  He never reaches his goal, gaze eclipsed by the horizon burning him awake._

Fen'Harel jerks up, panting and exciting.  He feels a grin creep its way across his face.  His guide is awake.  At last.  And he'll allow no one to get in his way.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note: 
> 
> Revasulahn, I could not decided who to place as voice actress between Catherine Zeta-Jones, you may recognise her for her role in The Mask of Zorro, or Gwyneth Paltrow from GLEE or Jackie Evanche. So, take your pick or chose your own. Heck, use Rihanna if that's your thing. I don't mind whatever makes you comfortable. 
> 
> Grandma is voiced by Helen Mirren from the film Red with Bruce Willis.
> 
> What do you guys think so far?


	3. Ah! My Guide!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroine learns a lot from Grandma and sets off on her Journey with her Poke-wait, wrong fandom.  
> Some Sentinel elvhen (unreliable narrator, kind of) worship. 
> 
> And our couple meets! Yay!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this and the other stories have taken so long. My father passed away recently and dealing with that is a lot harder than I expected. Intellectually, I know he's in a better place but, damn, does it still hurt.
> 
> Anyway, before I forget: Revasulahn roughly means "Freedom Song". Sulahn is just the shortened nickname for her.

**_"Just living is not enough... one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower."  -Hans Christian Andersen_ **

* * *

When Revasulahn and Rathas meet Granny and the felynes, the new elvhen is ecstatic.  She's familiar with both, something that Granny finds adorable.  

Only she loses some of her enthusiasm when she learns just where she is.  Thedas.  Even more specific, Ancient Thedas at the time of the power of the Evanuris.  Its not a time she's familiar with besides a bunch of tall tales and rumors.  That's not to say she didn't try.  She's played every game of the Dragon Age series. She's read both series of books, played Inquisition several times and found the _joys_ of falling for the damn Egg.  Of course, she must have secretly been a freaking masochist because she kept going back.  She couldn't make it past the second romance flag for Cullen before going back to the stupid heartbreaker. 

But, being in Thedas means its not _Solas_ she risks meeting but _Fen'Harel_ , the cocky and younger version of him.  

Fen'Harel, the Elvhen worship as a **_God_**.  

Fuck.

If she didn't avoid him, she was screwed.  In fact, avoiding all elvhen gods looked like her best prospect.  She thought about not meeting anyone until the gods were sealed away but...for all that she didn't like them, their arrogance and superiority, she did pity them, too.  Or, well, pity what would become of them.  

No one deserved to be made a slave.  No one.  Not even the stuck up ancient elves of Thedas.

It was a no brainer to stay on the Island and learn all that she can.  She spends a _century_ and a few decades learning all that she can from Granny.  It was a hard adjustment.  As a human, she knew she would be lucky to reach a single century.  To know that she'll live several? That she might live until _Time_ itself dies?  Until _Magic_ dies?  It was mind boggling.  

Terrifying.  Exhilarating. 

(A little bitterly, she can only _imagine_ all the future video games she'll never be able to play but learns to deal with it.  But damn if it doesn't make her just a little bit _twitchy_.)

Revasulahn teetered between these two extremes for a long time.  As the decades wore on and her appearance remained the same, the more she believed.  She had to learn how to deal with this new aspect of herself because she would live for centuries whether she was ready or not and burning through her life too quickly could lead to depression which would be exacerbated with her lack of Sentinel. (And wasn't that a slap to the face! Guides and Sentinels! But more on that later).  It took nearly half a century and some counselling from Grandma before she learned to cope and then accept this change about her.  Knowing she'd still have Rathas around helped tremendously.  Of course, none of this mattered if they both died because she couldn't take care of herself.

So she soaked up all she could from Grandma and the felynes.  The cat monsters weren't like the ones from the Monster Hunter Stories game.  These guys could do magic and used it to fish, cook, clean and keep their homes in top shape.  Its one of the few things she is taught and made to do over and over again until she's a master at it.  She knew cats could be difficult but when it comes to spellcasting, these guys didn't joke around.  They accepted nothing less than complete mastery over anything they teach her.  Which makes sense.

According to Grandma, magic is either an extension or a reflection of them and her.  A lack of mastery implies that she is a child without care or responsibility for her actions or herself.  It is also dangerous to rely on spells cast half-assed.  Would anyone want to live or stay in your house during a storm if you didn't cast your spells with all the care and precision needed to keep out the rain?  Probably not.

They were critical taskmasters but the lessons were worth it.  They made sure she knew what Rathas could eat and what he should absolutely stay away from, like certain berries and roots.  Unless she wanted a puking dragon on her hands.  His saddle is also a thing of beauty.  She didn't notice it when she woke up but its red with linings in gold, each stitch forming a rune of protection and power.  The felynes don't take long to study and make improvements to the saddle.  Then, they teach her how to maintain those runes and improvements.  There are runes to protect from rain and lightening, to keep her from being unseated even from projectiles and spells, from theft, and wear and tear.

Runes? Damn Awesome. 

She freaking loves them.  There is one felyne named Asa, who gives her a leather bound journal, so that she can practice rune meanings and combinations. It's looking more and more like something she'll want to specialize in than a regular hobby.

Of course, Grandma taught her other things used and made simpler with magic, like self-care and personal hygiene.  Although she taught Revasulahn how to care for herself without, too.  What plants make good soap and perfume.  What kind of rivers not to drink but are still good to bath in and so on.  The island is a vast ecosystem with a number of different rivers and ponds.  Creatures and plants during the day change as the sun sets and night takes command.  Its still breathtaking to her every time she sees it.  

Except now she can tell which plants she can use to clean a day's sweat and which make the best perfumes.  There's one particular plant that she likes that smells like a perfect mix of vanilla and honey.  The best part is that, the same plant blooms a flower head at night which drips a thick nectar that, when mixed with elfroot, makes her new favorite shampoo.  After adjusting to her new 'immortal' life, she began liking the magical elf thing a lot more.  One interesting quirk about being an elf she's completely taken with is her lack of hair.  Except on her head.  She's not complaining!  Oh no, quite the opposite, she's happy that's one less task she has to worry about is all. 

Heavens but did she love magic! 

Even if Thedas left much to be desired...she's tempted to make the whole elf thing come crashing down.  But still keep everything else because she, somehow, _knows_ this plant is nowhere to be seen during the Dragon Age!  There is no way she's going to give up on her small comforts especially those helping maintain her sense of sanity.  

Its a tempting thought.  Very tempting.  One she shelves for later because there is magic to be had!

Rathas hasn't sat idly by either.  He goes flying around the island, patrolling the land and sea, building stamina and muscle.  He looks old and battle scared but he was born the same day she was, with the same memories she's had.  Its strange, like watching a film from the cameras view, to know that she and Rathas fought a Blighted Dragon and won.  Its like a feeling of Deja Vu but more.  She feels it most when she sits in his saddle and they take off.  

The first time is like waking from a dream.  The runes engraved in the saddle keeps her seated as she opens her arms wide and lets the wind pass by.  Its one thing to read about flying or to see it in a movie or game but to experience it...

There aren't enough words she can use to describe it.  Wondrous. Exhilarating.  Beautiful.  So many words and phrases and they still lack that fundamental piece to truly capture it.  To grab hold of that inexplicable desire to _fly_ , to soar above the clouds and see the world that seduced so many pilots and aviators throughout history.  She's done this hundreds of time before and yet, its her first time.  That strange state of in between fades as she flies more often.  But the joy of flying? With Rathas? It burns brighter each time she takes the saddle.  

It is a similar situation with her rapier.  Alice has never picked up a sword in her life.  Not unless it was to cosplay a certain character and even then, the swords were handmade with plastics or other materials.  The rapier she had made as Alice _became_ Lambent Light.  Its weight, its power and sharpness, is all familiar and foreign to her.  It is like flexing a muscle she forgot to use.  When she drew her blade and fought, she just, **_knew_**.  How to dodge and flank.  How to pierce and stab.  How to defend and counter. It was as if she'd been practicing her entire life...or spent years fighting to defend it.               

According to Grandma, she had the skills of a master but her reflexes had started to stagnate and then proceeded to animate some dummies to try and pummel her.  Try being the key word because Revasulahn just let go and followed her instincts.  She decimated the dummies.  Sulahn flew into combat as if it were second nature.  She knew her weapon like the back of her own hand.  Every breath is measured, every step and strike made without waste.  Its not her limit.  Not even close but she likes the stretch, the work out, it gives her.

While impressed, Grandma made it harder after that, making her "opponents" harder and more cunning.  More ruthless.  But she also shared other ways to fight with her rapier she didn't know of including using a dagger or, if the situation were dire, with a cloak.  The new skills are not a problem.  They don't bother her.  It just felt...lacking somehow.  The fights grew in difficulty and danger that is fact but the feeling persisted and she didn't know how to change it.  So the elvhen let it be and focused on her training.  

That decade was an increasingly difficult time for her.  

It wasn't because she was afraid to fight.  No.  Just that it wasn't the kind of fight she was used to.  She's been to protests, some of which turned violent, she's no stranger to that.  But it was an environment that she knew the rules and the consequences of.  It was an environment where the battlefield revolved around _power_ and a person's _rights_ not their life and if anyone died?  It was game over.  Someone was going to pay for it, for that life lost.  Social Media could be just as brutal as politics and would not hesitate to **_crucify_ ** someone.  

Not so much here.  In Thedas, people's lives were expected, like currency.  If someone died the other players kept going and their games going with them.  Flipping hell, politicians were careful when it came to peoples live if only because that meant they might not get re-elected or voted out of office.  It was a careful balancing act back in her home dimension that teetered every now and then but here?  _Statues_ received better care.  The time period is painfully medieval albeit a much more hygienic version of Europe during the Middle Ages.

Still.  She gets exhausted just thinking about the mentality of the time in Thedas but she pushes it to the side. 

It was a hard decade but she _learned_ and grew all the more stronger from it.  But that doesn't mean she's accepted it.  Oh no.  Not by a long shot.  By this point she's got a rough plan in mind to ally with Fen'Harel to make sure he doesn't fuck up his own rebellion and give the slaves he frees a lot more than just a "hey, you're free now" and a slap on the back.  Because that's where the real power lay. 

In The People.

Like it always has.

It was then that she learned that for all she knew of Thedas, she didn't know everything about _this_ Thedas because apparently, she's a Guide.  A really strong one, too.  It was the metaphorical cherry on top. (That slap in the face? That's this right here).  She knows about Guide and Sentinels from the original show and the other differences because of the fandom.  But the basics she's well aware of.  Sulahn just wasn't expecting it to be here...in _Thedas_.  If she didn't like the fact that she got magical empathetic powers from being a Guide, she'd probably have buried herself in her comforters in her cabin for a few days.  

It was an exhausting day.

Guides and Sentinels are not all the same.  They are each unique and no two person is the same.  This is also true for their abilities.  There is a spectrum for the abilities intensity and power.  Like how certain dogs have better herding abilities than others and some dogs are better at hunting than say a lap dog.  Sentinels and Guides are the same in that comparison.  There are some Sentinels whose senses are stronger than others and Guides are no different. 

A Guide is an elvhen with heightened magical abilities but their power lay in their empathic and other abilities.  Every Guide is different, of course.  Some Guides only had empathic abilities making them excellent healers and caretakers.  Others had abilities like being able to _talk_ certain crops into growing.

Which, okay.  She can see that.  Lord of the Rings and the Eragon series probably beat them to that but sure, why not.

Then there are those who are exceptional healers, capable of bringing someone back from the brink of death.  Which, again, not a big surprise to her.  Doctors and surgeons do this all the time.  Without magic.  But, being able to heal Rathas from near death, because she's not stupid to think he's invincible- this is _Thedas_!- is incredibly invaluable. Healing magic is a must on her list of "Things to Learn".

And there are those Guides who are good at...pleasure.  Grandma didn't say prostitute but she implies they are.  That these Guides are without their Sentinel and are made into concubines for whoever require their service.  There are a few exceptions with a hand full being more like massage therapists because their abilities land on the lower end of the spectrum but that doesn't sooth her temper.  A familiar rage burns inside her but with her training, she manages to control it until later.

(After, Rathas will take her to the other side of island and throw boulders in the air for her to demolish.  Lightening and fire will course through her as she decimates her targets).

Revasulahn doesn't understand why woman turn to prostitution when there are other alternatives.  (Although, she understands how one can be _forced_ to.) But that's just her sheltered life talking and if its one thing she understands its doing something you don't want, something that abhors you right down to your soul.  She understands agreeing to something that makes your skin crawl.  That moment you realize your life is no longer your own.  The horror as you grasp the moment you've given complete power over yourself and your future to someone else, someone who has no care what you think or desire.  The realization that you are living with the bed you've made and knowing it is the same as laying in an open grave, waiting for the dirt to pile high and suffocate you.  That feeling of your life ending years before your body even begins to rot.

The part that is Alice **_screams_**.  Her fury great and unrelenting. 

For all Revasulahn understands, she does not accept this.  She cannot.  It is antithesis to her very sense of self.  Alice, despite her acceptance of her father's wishes did not accept her fate.  Even as she wailed and despaired at the fate decided for her.  Alice **_fought_**.  Were it not for her friend, her best friend, offering her this second chance, as sure as the sun rises and sets every day, Alice would have made her escape.  Even if it meant Alice had to crash and burn to get it.  Regardless of the circumstance, she would not have simply accepted her place as some man's trophy wife.  No matter how beneficial or "safe".

Pain has no comparison.  Pain is pain.  It doesn't matter if your poor or rich.  Pain _hurts_. 

And all that talk of duty and propriety? Bullshit.  Utter bullshit. 

You only get one life, one chance to live and reach for happiness.  All the accomplishments and all the trophies stay with the living when you die.  What is the worth of duty if it makes you resent your own life?  Your own choices?  What use is propriety if it leaves people to suffer?  If it makes you question your purpose? Your existence? All duty and propriety offer is a lifetime of regrets and "what ifs". 

Any safety, duty and propriety promise, is all an illusion.  Its why she can never stand books like _Pride and Prejudice_.  The classic is...well written but it grates against her senses.  Against her sense of self worth.

Mother taught her well.  About herself and life.

She gave her daughter the greatest legacy any mother can ever pass on.  Knowledge that she is a person with feelings and desires.  That she is important and beautiful, even when she makes mistakes or has a bad day.  And that she is, above all, more than the sum of her parts.

Sulahn will not bow to the expectations of this time.  No.  She'll bring it crashing to the ground.  She has the means and the know how to do it.  Over a decade, centuries even, of years of history she's back up into her still fully functioning tablets is more than enough reference to get her own Underground Railroad going, among other things.  Even if it means working with that heartbreaking pretty boy Fen'Harel to make sure he doesn't fuck things up.  All it takes is one seed to plant an idea.  One spark to set a fire and Sulahn has plenty of matches to start one. 

Her determination to start a revolution of her own gains root and she nurtures it.            

Grandma distracts her from her fury.

She teaches the elvhen how to be aware as she uses her abilities because she's been using them since she's been awake.  Feeling for someone's intentions even as they speak and act.  Its a useful ability, Grandma explains, for seeing if someone is lying to her and what their true desires for her may be.  Considering the _time_ of Thedas she's in, Grandma's right.  Sulahn can't make plants grow but that's okay.  She's not a plant person.  Gardener, person with a green thumb or whatever else to call them.  She likes flowers but about as much as a person has a favorite flower and not because they have a massive garden they love tending to.  

Fortunately, Grandma says she doesn't have the ability to give others _pleasure_. (Yay!) But she would make an excellent healer if she put her mind to it.  She has no idea where that came from since Alice had no first aid training or any aspirations to be a doctor.  The closest conclusion that Sulahn can come to is that part of her fighting style during her various other lives included healing during combat.  Which makes a twisted sort of sense all things considered.  With the exception of Hawke, Alice always chose a mage for her character in Thedas, one that can _heal_ , simply for the fact that potions were a pain to keep track of and casting barriers cost less than buying or crafting the damn things.  Which led to an entirely new lesson on healing arts and mana consumption and re-absorption.  Like a solar battery.

Thank Alice's reckless buying because there are a bunch of medical texts that include anatomy and a bunch of other things that help her studies.  Without them, she'd have been stuck for at least half a century more with the slave driving version of Grandma.  On the other hand, she can cross out basic healing from her list.  If you count a decade worth of study basic. But what did she know? Maybe it was.  

At least meditating and dreaming are easy.  Although she hasn't meet any spirits yet.  Strange.  But Grandma says she'll meet more on the mainland when she and Rathas take off.  In the meantime, she trains, learns all that she can and sings in between it all.  

Oh, yeah, she sings a lot more now.  She likes it a lot more than she did before.  Probably because she's an elvhen now but she doesn't care.  Sulahn thinks she sounds pretty and no one's going to tell her otherwise.  Not even if she meets any professional elvhen singers. Of course the other reason is that she misses the music. She'd become so used to hearing some type of music playing in the background that she didn't realize how integrated into her life it had become until it was gone. During practice, when she's driving, as she did her homework or drew in her sketchbook.  When she's playing a new game or starting a new play through.  Even during her protests there had been music.  She can't pull out her tablet and speaker because that would be dangerous, especially during this time period. (Except when she's alone in her little house to look something up or just to read a book but that's it).  

So, she sings to fill the gap and for now its enough.

And that's where she is now. Revasulahn is a magical empathic, healing, rapier-wielding Guide with a dragon she calls her best friend and only a little under two centuries of experience in Thedas, mostly centered on survival training and spellcasting.  Without her Sentinel.  

...Well, if that doesn't make her sound like a weird magical elf girl about to go on a harrowing journey into the unknown fraught with dangers, she doesn't know what would.

* * *

Flying away is a lot harder than she imagined. Sulahn hugs everyone twice and cries.  This Island has been her home. Her sanctuary in a new and dangerous world.  But she's also eager to travel, to discover and find her place in this world that is both strange and familiar. When she and Rathas take off, packs full to bursting, sword and claws buffed, she keeps waving even as her family get smaller and smaller in the distance.

That's why its so hard. Because they're family.

Their flight isn't days long, thankfully. They set out a little before noon and arrive on the mainland at dusk. Rathas sets them down on a cliff overlooking the ocean.  She has no idea where they are without a map but its warm so she's guessing somewhere north of what will one day be Fereldan. But considering a continent's ability to shift that can be wrong, too.  Does Thedas continents shift? She can't remember if they ever did actually.  Before or after the Veil, too.  She knows there were significant changes but all that's been touched upon was the magical aspect.  What about other things?  Geological? Biologically? Environmentally?  Unless magic has a larger impact on all of those too?

Meh, she'll worry about it later. 

Its warm, night was approaching and Sulahn was hungry after the long flight. Rathas ate during the flight. An ability he learned and modified by watching seagulls during his extensive stay at the island.  It was pretty kick ass to see a dragon snap up a half a dozen seals during the trip without missing a beat or losing focus on his flight.

Setting up camp takes no more than a snap of her fingers.  Rathas curls around Sulahn and her small fire. Her diet is changed from her time as a human.  Meats were not a big focus which she isn't complaining about because the few strips she's eaten taste...bland to her.  Maybe its the spices but she's been put off so she sticks to the berries and other foods.  Again, Grandma is a saint in disguise, showing her what berries, fruits, and other food stuffs are filled with essential nutrients and proteins.  Sulahn won't need to hunt for any food for a while but she'll need to visit a village or a city soon to get a feel for the time.  Grandma prepared her well so she isn't too worried.  

Her only worry is being noticed by the wrong person before she gets the chance to put any of her plans into action.  

Even if she did, she certainly isn't going to go quietly.  

After her filling dinner, Sulahn makes herself comfortable and starts to sing aloud.  Rathas purrs at the sound.  Something that doesn't fail to bring a smile from her and another reason she keeps up her self-indulging karaoke.  Its a quiet night and not for the first time, Sulahn appreciates her solitude.  Grandma and the others were good to her make no mistake but outside her close nit group of friends, she didn't socialize like the other girls.  She knew her limits of course, had to adapt because of her father's plans.  But she always managed to find time for herself.  Time to unwind and de-stress from the world when it got too loud or too heavy, with things left unsaid and undone.

She found time on the island, too.  That time alone, however, never felt complete.  It wasn't that she liked being alone or that she felt lonely.  No.  But being alone for a time helped her rebalance herself.  It allowed her to reach a place of peace.  Her brother used to tease her about being such an introvert when they were younger but their mother put a quick end to the teasing.  

Being an introvert is nothing to be ashamed of.  Besides, its not as if introverts don't go out and have fun.  Sulahn is all too happy to place the blame for misconceptions at the feet of Hollywood and bad American television for such a crappy understanding of people.  Yes.  She's got no problem pointing out the sneaky shit her own country's pulled.  Alice and by extension, Sulahn, try to be as self-reflective and self-aware of herself to see her own flaws and the flaws of her own society. 

Elvhenan is no different.

That doesn't mean there aren't good things.  Grandma and the felynes are just a few examples of that.  She is sure there are others.  For all the good in a society there is bad and vice versa.  A balance between dark and light, between kindness and cruelty.  Sulahn is all too aware of the dark side of Elvhenan but she's hopeful.  Solas would not have been so desperate to bring back the old world for just a few scraps.  To kill those who ruined it, sure.  But revenge only gets you so far.  Unless you're Frank freaking Castle but that's a different universe so that doesn't count.  

There has to be more to this world, this time, than just the Evanuris mind games and the enslavement of the people.  Something so profound that the last free mage/god sought to raze an entire world to bring it back.

Sulahn sighs deeply.  Relaxing by the fire with Rathas steady breathing at her back, the elvhen is soon lulled to sleep.  Her first night dreaming on the mainland.  She's looking forward to it.  Maybe she'll make something in her dream that doesn't get overwhelmed or influenced by all the water like back on the island.  

As she starts to dream, gold eyes turn sharply in her direction.

* * *

Cyvel is grateful for many things in his life.  As a Sentinel, he is given the chance to study with the best of instructors.  He is given the best food, clothing, and weapons with the exception of those given to the gods themselves.  All he has taken in the seemingly never ending search for his Guide.  A Pair is a dangerous pact to encounter in combat but they can also be a great benefit to Elvhenan.  Previous couples have contributed to the people in many ways.  Sometimes by winning a decisive battle or making a new discovery in the magical arts.  Others were as simple as helping the community by use of their skills.  

There is no end to the need for Nurturing and Protecting after all.  

Cyvel, like all other Sentinels, thought of nothing but his Guide.  They trained extensively to prove they were worthy of a Guide, of protecting them and their young.  This near obsession, unfortunately has been turned against them.  Sentinels who awaken young are increasingly vulnerable not just because their senses easily overwhelm them but because the Evanuris are quick to lay claim to them.  Before they had greater protections.  Traditions that respected the status of Sentinels and Guides but those traditions have been steadily worn away.  

Now, without the proper teachings to help Sentinels remain balanced until they're Guides are found, they find themselves losing their focus and becoming prone to the manipulations of the gods.  Except one.

Fen'Harel.  The Rebel Wolf.  The Sentinel God.  The Trickster.  He Who Walks Between The Realms.

There is no question who is the most dangerous of the Evanuris.  It is He.  The one among the gods who is both Divine and a Protector.  He whose fury burns colder than Elgar'nan's fire.  Whose travels grant Him more connections, allies, and knowledge than the twins Falon'Din and Dirthamen.  Whose care and protection of the people makes Him as loved as the All-Mother Mythal and her daughter Sylaise.  Although Fen'Harel is no master craftsman like June, he is just as crafty and capable.  Cyvel is certain that his God-King is more than capable of out crafting the bratty princeling of Mythal's children if He so chose to. 

For above all, He is one whose cunning and wit makes him a more than a match for any of the Forgotten Ones. 

Something not even, venerated Mythal can boast.  

Thus, Cyvel is unquestionably grateful for his God-King saving him when he did.  He was an infant when he awoke, a mere five decades.  The youngest of all the Sentinels. Ever.  Had he been taken by any other of the Evanuris, he had no doubt he'd have been made a slave by the time he reached adulthood, several centuries later.  As it is, Cyvel is still a free elvhen under command of his God-King as one of his personal guards.  He takes great pride in that.  In that he has proven himself worthy of the honor of protecting his God-King at his most vulnerable.

Including this very moment.  Fen'Harel slumbers quietly in the center of camp, surrounded by the full might of the Sentinels who call him God and King.  All of Elvehnan knew his Guide awoke some time ago and that he searches for her.  However, it is also well known that someone has taken great pains to conceal her and keep her from the Wolf.  It is unacceptable but that is all that the people know.  The only consolation is that He can tell she is safe and cared for.  It points to a family caring for their own, nurturing and protecting her.  That is the only reason His fury is abated for now.  

While the intent is not malicious, it still grates on the nerve of Fen'Harel and the other Sentinels. 

Still, she is alive and all that needs to happen is for her to be found.  Once Fen'Harel has His Guide many things will change and that includes the power among the Evanuris.  No longer will the Evanuris be allowed to _claim_ Sentinels like one chooses a new pair of shoes or armor.  No longer will the other Evanuris be able to dictate the coming and goings of Guides they horde from within their temples.  It would give both Guides and Sentinels a level of protection that they've lacked for _centuries_.  It is a goal that Cyvel is more than willing to lay down his life for.      

Cyvel is not alone in this.  Although he had commanded only a few to stand guard, it is a command they do not completely obey.  Honored Fen'Harel has been on the hunt for his Guide ever since they awakened nearly two centuries ago.  Since then, He has made strides to close the gap between them.  Before he know nothing.  Now, they knew his Guide was a female elvhen and that she is an **_Samsara_**.  

 _Samsara_ in the elvhen is rare but not unheard of.  They are the souls of people who are reborn, those souls have lived full lives and came to live anew.  That one would take on the life of a Guide is new to the elvhen.  Cyvel cared little for what it might mean for a _Samsara_ to become a Guide.  Cyvel cared only that He became one step closer to her, day by day.  According to Him, the lives she had lived are many but hazy to his sight, unsurprising to Him and the others.  

The lives of _Samsara_ can only be seen with permission.  Those who do not, suffer great risk and even permanent injury. There is a rumor that a High Priest of Dirthamen had held a _Samsara_ against their will and sought the secrets of their last life, under orders of the God of Secrets.  The priest used all manners of torture to break the _Samsara's_ silence.  It is unknown how long but when they did break, the priest had his very mind turned to liquid.  When Dirthamen attempted to retrieve the knowledge from the soul of his priest, the magic suddenly lashed out and scarred the god.

It is rumored that is why the God of Secrets wears a mask to this day.  And why the Evanuris proclaimed all _Samsara_ and their secrets, Honored Elvhen.

There is no doubt in Cyvel's mind that they did so in an attempt to seduce any _Samsara_ with treats and privileges in an effort to have them give their secrets willingly.  He didn't know if such tactics worked but Dirthamen is a constant remind of any attempts to do otherwise.  

"Next Shift."

Elras, a red haired and hazel eyed Sentinel, moved away from him to check the perimeter as new elvhen changed shifts. Originally, Cyvel wanted to bring an entire battalion but such a large show of force could be seen as an invasion.  However, Cyvel and the other Sentinels refused to accept any less than an entire company.  Fortunately, his God-King accepted this.  Thus allowing the Sentinels under his command to structure watch rotations to maximum effect. 

A tactic Sentinels at Fen'Harel's temples were starting to practice including for two elvhen because there is no doubt that Fen'Harel will find his Guide.  There were rooms being prepared for her at every temple, fortress, and mansion.  Although they knew very little about the elvhen they had more than the other Sentinels knew about their own Guides and _that_ is only due to Fen'Harel's mastery of Dreaming and his ability to easily traverse the spiritual realm.

Cyvel snaps his gaze toward his God.  The Wolf seemed to flinch and Cyvel could not tell if it is due to pain or something else.  Fen'Harel's dreams were all they had to go on and if something or someone were to interfere with it...Cyvel feared nothing would stop Him from enveloping all of Elvhenan in eternal winter.  Regardless, he stayed vigil at his King's side.  

It would be no less than what the world deserves for the pain of a Sentinel's loss.

* * *

_He hunts relentlessly for her.  Hunts and hunts and hunts.  His chest aches for her and he hasn't even laid eyes upon her.  But tonight is different.  The eagle cries out and its so much closer than its ever been before.  Fennas is absent but he knows where they are.  He can see the trail they left for him to follow and just as he cuts through the thick brush, he hears the unmistakable sound of an eagle's call._

_And there she is, his Guide.  T_ _he elvhen from his dreams.  He knows its her.  Her spirit is an instant balm to his senses. The eagle resting next to her is unperturbed as she carefully runs her fingers through his wolf's fur.  A thrill runs through him, down his spin and deep into his loins._ _He stands behind her, soaking up her scent and basking in the light of her soul._

_And he hasn't even seen her yet._

_"My Guide." He whispers, voice rough. She startles and turns to him, surprise clear across her beautiful features.  He feels his breath escape him._

_"You!" The recognition is expected but not the disbelief or the anguish. "Is this some kind of joke? Some sick joke?"_

_"I don't understand." He says slowly, as a painful vice grips his heart. "This is real, you are my Guide and I-"_

_"No! No..."She turns away and Fen'Harel feels his chest seize.  Was she rejecting him?  His thoughts break at the sound of her sobs._

_"_ _It has to be a joke.  Some sick joke." She turns to him suddenly angry, "I_ _romanced, I **loved** you in another life and you...you fucking left!"_

_"My heart." He calls to her desperate but understanding._

_"You called me that too and you still walked away! You walked away and left me there!" she's crying. "Why am I crying.  A hundred different lives I tried.  A hundred different lifetimes of knowing what an asshole you are.  I know this.  I made peace with it.  So why? Why am I?"_

_Fen'Harel rushes her and gathers her into his arms._

_"Because he is not me." He argues, his own unforgiving temper flaring.  He holds her close to his chest and doesn't let her go even as she sturggles and cries.  "He can never be me.  Not in this life just as I am not him.  I am not.  If he was me, **truly** , he would never have let you go.  Not even if the world were dying all around us."_

_She stops struggling and just sinks into his chest.  Hiding her face in his fur mantle, she says nothing but he relishes being able to hold her.  That her fear and horror is not because she hated him but because of a life that still had hold of her.  Memories that still haunted and tormented her.  He looks at her spirit animal and sees proof of this.  The eagle which had always flown just outside of his vision, is still a beauty of gold and bronze but its feathers are re-enforced by steel._

_"I don't think you really mean that."  He lifts her chin so that she looks him in the eye.  So that she can see his fury and obsession, his hunger and desire._

_"I will find you." He growls, "And I will prove it."_

* * *

[City ](http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/pathfinder/images/6/6d/Kyonin_elf_town.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20081010152451)of Arvelon: Three days later

Sulahn entered the [city ](http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/pathfinder/images/6/6d/Kyonin_elf_town.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20081010152451)a few days ago and just wondered around.  She left every night back to camp with Rathas but she knew it was only a matter of days before the Trickster found her.  Like he said he would.  

It took her a while to come to really understand her new situation.  Fen'Harel is her Sentinel.  The lying Wolf who will one day put up the Veil and than become so guilty that he'll try to tear it back down and screw everyone over.  Or maybe not?  Originally, she was never here.  Originally, there were no Sentinel and Guide pairings in Thedas.  So does that mean that history, the history that she knows, is different?  Or is she only an add on?  The only conclusive answer she's come to answering in the last few days is that she is an anomaly, a wild card.

And Wild Cards can change the whole game.  

She really only chose this city because it was close enough to the forest and the coast that Rathas hides in.  She isn't too sure how the other elvhen might react to him.  So she keeps him out of sight for now.  But walking into Arvelon is easy.  The fashion of the elvhen is in line with what she knows, in other words, flowing and placing emphasis on the body's best features.  Of course only the nobility are able to wear the finest of fabrics.  The elvhen under them are more conservative but no less flaunting.

Before she left, Grandman had nearly an entire wardrobe made for her.  Sulahn loved every piece even if more than a few were more revealing than she's comfortable with.  Still, she walked in wearing one of her new [dresses](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c6/ea/6a/c6ea6a9618d82067348ce5e7706c8186.jpg) plus her sword on her hip and almost walked right back out.  Apparently, Grandma failed to mention just what kind of image she would be sending if she wore them.  

On the other hand, she felt really sexy and amazing.  So, she kept on walking and looking around.  It was really hard to keep calm however, with nearly everyone and their mother trying to cater to her every whim.  A few Sentinels offered to escort her around but she politely turned them down.  Her excuse ran along the vein of taking a few days for herself to relax before going back to work.

It only half worked but the more she walked around the more people stared.  Until she finally had enough and walked back to the gates.  That's where she meet the ruler of this city and it is a beautiful city with white stone walls and soft grass beneath her bare feet. There are walkways everywhere and a free flowing waterfall right in the middle of it all.

Its a wonderful sight.  Which she told the elvhen, Paren, and then she made a little bit of small talk before making her escape back to her dragon.  That has been the pattern for the last few day too.  Yesterday she wondered outside the noble district and wasn't that a kick finding out, into the common district.  It was there that she found exactly what she was looking for.  A little [café ](https://media.timeout.com/images/100605851/image.jpg)with outside patio tables and hanging plants.  

Its a homey type of place and the pastries are to delicious.  The chef has the best banana and vanilla crumb cake that's topped with berries she doesn't know the names of, that she has ever tasted.  That is her destination for today.  Her [dress ](https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB14bFzHVXXXXaCXpXXq6xXFXXXG/YuuKi-Asuna-Cosplay-ANIME-SAO-White-Dress-Sword-Art-Online-2-Fairy-Queen-Uwowo-Costume.jpg)for today is as pretty as all the others except its white but a few spells will keep it from getting dirty.  After a few days of wearing her new cloths and the exposure doesn't bother her as much.  Sulahn was used to being stared at as Alice, so although the magnitude is much greater for whatever reason, its still something she can handle.  

Although having a few sentinels follow her around is getting really old, really quick.  She manages to ignore them. 

What she can't ignore is the tension that flows through her when the city bells chime.  Its a signal to the citizens that one of the Evanuris has arrived.  Several other of the patrons get up and leave.  Others stay sitting, anxious and twitching.  The Sentinels around her actually relax and reassure a some of the elvhen who approach that they are in no danger.  It is Fen'Harel who visits them, after all and he has no need for company tonight. 

But Sulahn already knew that.  She knew he would come, that he would track her down to this city.  Every night since he's visited her dreams and held her, whispering how he would never abandon her, never let anything stand between them.  She wants to believe him but she's played Inquisition so many damn times, the final scene is essentially burned into her memory.

Last night, she let her frustration through and the memory plays out before them.  Fen'Harel sees that last moment, where an older version of himself, broken and tired and worn, tears her asunder and walks away.  Sulahn had to cut the dream off at the sound of her own screams because she couldn't take it.  It hurt to watch and she couldn't bare seeing his face.

She woke herself up and took an extra long soak in a nearby brook.  But there was no running away today.  He is here and she would have to face him.  She needed to not just for him but for herself.  If she couldn't get over what happened than she would be stuck, like a ghost is stuck in their own death state, and that's not where she wants to be.  Sulahn stays in her seat under a shaded table on the patio and looks out at the people.  

She waits.  He knows how to find her.  

* * *

Cyvel knows his King, very well in fact.  Many of his personal guard know him well enough to notice anything off.  Three days ago he meet his Guide in the Realm Beyond the Fade and while most of the camp rejoiced, those closest to the King noticed His somewhat worried contention.  All that He would say is that his Guide is a _Samsara_ with incredibly strong memories, of which the most tragic still plague her.  

He urged them to be cautious but understanding. 

Something the Sentinels were more than happy to do but there was still something that bothered Him.  Until last night. Whatever it is that He saw, it fueled a jealous and fury in his King that he has never seen before.  The camp is packed faster than it broke the night before and everyone is mounted to go.  It is fortunate the mounts were given a night's rest because Fen'Harel pushes them hard.  With barely a twitch of his hands, his magic lashes out at the world in front of them, commanding the trees to stand aside and their roots to sink into the ground.

It is a beautiful sight and an example of His awesome power.

It is also terrifying in its rage.  No one asks what is the catalyst for such displays.  They already know. 

* * *

He is furious. 

Yet, it is more than that.  It is a laughable understatement.  A joke at his expense.  He wants to rip his enemy to cinders and freeze the ashes.  Freeze them so that he can feed them to some ocean beast.  There is an enemy that has wronged his Guide so utterly as to be unforgiveable and he cannot even seek justice on her behalf!  How does one kill a ghost of a memory? 

A spirit can be brought low and chained.  They can be torn apart and reduced to fragments of what they once were.  Memories can be repressed or forgotten.  But both at once? Two halves of a whole, in a _Samsara_ , no less? It would be like attempting to convince an Elder elvhen they are new born or a High dragon they are a kitten. 

It is also the reason for the bulk of his jealousy and his hate.  For there was once a life where he had a love, a Guide who loved him utterly.  Who loved him enough to try again and again through enough lifetimes to bring a weaker soul to its knees.

And that broken fragment that is supposed to him squanders it all. 

No.  Not just squander, he _kills_ her.  With a snarl, his eyes bleed red, and he seeps magic into his black destrier, purging it of fatigue and giving it a second wind, urging it faster.  

That green light, the volatile magic that few knew he's been working on ever since Andruil returned from the void and started her pursuit of him.  It was his.  His magic that tore through her and in the end, the shadow of him takes not only her pain but her soul! Her soul beyond ruined, torn apart and held together only by the strength of her own stubborn will.  It would be commendable if it were anyone other than his own Guide.  

It just leaves a horrible feeling of dread to take hold in the pit of his stomach.  

He doubts she realizes just what she's shared with him.  At least, beyond the obvious.  He will take it for the boon it no doubt is.  It is not too late to make amends to his orb and still achieve his goals.  A delay is no issue at this point in time.  

It will also allow him to properly court his Guide and to banish the fragment that showed such disregard for her affections.  Yes. That is what he shall do.  Fen'Harel is no worn out shell, exhausted from combat and the cruelties that befell him.  He is young, virile, strong, and cunning.  He has his wits and knows this can be used to his advantage.  Seducing her with his charm is not the difficult part.

It is enrapturing all of her to see _him_ and not the ghost of what he _could_ be.  That life is gone.  Done and over.  He will not allow a phantom to take what is rightfully his.  He will not allow it!  

Up ahead he can see the tops of the city coming into view and slows his mount from its all out run.  It takes only a moment for the rest of his group to do the same.  The walk is needed for the mounts to cool down after a hard day running and also for the party to make themselves presentable to the city and the people.  It is not a large city like Arlathan but it is sizeable nonetheless, for a vacation resort.    

It is clear the city is anxious to see them, not that Fen'Harel cares.  There are a few pleasantries that he, likewise, ignores.  In fact, once he dismounted he closed his eyes and listened for the heartbeat of the one he's looking for.  It is almost difficult with how the small group of nobles offer him the company of the few Guides with them.  It disgust him.  What need does he have for any Guide other than his own? 

His Guide whose very heartbeat he could hear, in the waking world.  Without a word to the tittering nobles or the anxious statesmen, the Trickster God moves past them.  He moves outside of the Noble district without a word but his stride is determined and reminisce of a predator on the hunt. Fen'Harel is well into the Common district when his eyes lay upon her.  

He feels his breath catch as all of his senses zero in onto her.  She knows he's there, looking right at her but she does not rise to greet him.  When her eyes meet his, there is fire, daring him, challenging him to change her.  It sends a jolt of heat through him.      

She stays seated but doesn't look away.  It is clear she will not bow to him, she will not grovel at his feet nor worship his name.  That is fine.  _He_ has no problem doing so.  He will show her what it means to be worshipped, properly.  To be the center of his existence and his soul.  For her.  For his heart.  That shadow puppet of himself will not have her, not after it so willingly let her go.

Fen'Harel will show her the devotion of a **God** to what he claims as _his_ and when he has thoroughly enraptured all of her, she will never think of that shadow or any other figment of that past, ever again.      

Fen'Harel stalks toward her and takes the seat next to her.  He carefully takes her hand and gives it a kiss as is proper.  

"I am Fen'Harel and you, my Guide?"

"I am Revasulahn, my Sentinel."

That she acknowledges him is a good sign at the very least. 

"I've been looking for you."

His voice is rough and it takes all of his control not to take her on the table in front of everyone.  The fire in her eyes also stops him.  For all that he is a god, something inside tells him he would not be able to take her if he tried.

"And I've waited to hear you say that." She turns to keep eating her cake but even he can hear the lack of conviction, the doubt, in her voice.

"This will not be like before." Fen'Harel growls and leans into her space, so close they are nearly touching but she doesn't lean away, glaring back just as fierce. "I am not him and he is not me. I will not accept that...that shadow's mistakes as my own.  That will not be my future or yours.  I won't allow it."

Not for the first time since that memory does Fen'Harel curse that abomination, that failure of a Sentinel.  The primal part of him recoils and roars in disgust and hatred at that mockery.  Her eyes turn hard but that familiar fire _burns_ him.

"And me? What of my future?  What will you _allow_?" She stares him in the eye, openly challenging him, testing him for her own purpose.

"Whatever you desire." he willingly and truthfully obliges at the same time he cautiously takes her hand for the second time. "You are my Guide and I would like to be a part of it.  If you will have me.  As I said, I won't accept that creature's mistakes as mine."

She stares at him, searching his gaze, his soul for whatever truth she needs.  Fen'Harel doesn't bother to hide anything from her.  As a _Samsara_ , she would do as she pleases with or without him but as she is _his_ Guide, he would much rather have her _actually_ be his.  To bond and bear his children.  To share his life and be his Queen.  He would rather not manipulate his Guide into having him but he will if he has to.

Fen'Harel was never particularly good at letting go of what he considered his.   

"One chance." she says at last and raises one finger up at him. "No more."

"That is all I need." He grins and triumphantly kisses her hand. "One is enough." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good grief that's a long chapter. Anyway.  
> IMPORTANT!!!!!
> 
> Before I forget and anyone gets the idea. This is not a White-modern-girl-saves-thedas kind of fic. I am of the mind that the slaves of Elvhenan would have been more than capable of helping maintain their society if their education had been broadened. 
> 
> Thus, this is a tale of REVOLUTION and NOT salvation. I want that to be perfectly clear. There is a very clear difference between being a rebel and being saved. Including mentally. It is my theory that Fen'Harel did SAVE the elvhen people and that was his mistake. He saved them FOR them. Where as if he had freed them from any magical slave chains and showed them or encouraged them to rise up against the other Evanuris, the fate of the Elvhen would be very different. I'm not sure if I'm being clear but I didn't want any of my readers to be sucked into some of the unreliable narration coming from any of my elvhen characters who may view her as such. 
> 
> If it helps think of her as a parallel between Martin King Jr. or Susan B. Anthony. (Yes, I've been looking up historical and modern activist and watching Mysteries of the Museum for this story). 
> 
> Tell me what you think! See you next chapter!


	4. Meet and Greet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen'Harel introduces Sulahn to his Sentinels. 
> 
> Confusion and a trip into Dead Space. I mean Training. Practice. Sulahn was feeling nostalgic.  
> Fen'Harel's Steward regrets making a fuss about his Lord's Guide.
> 
> The Generals and other members of his counsil, however, are incredibly interested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Warning!!!  
> Unreliable narrators ahead. 
> 
> Also, I was feeling a little nostalgic and this happened. I didn't want to take it back so I tweaked a few things and made it part of the plot. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**_"I prefer dangerous freedom over peaceful slavery."_** -Thomas Jefferson

* * *

The new couple don't do much after settling back in their seats.  Fen'Harel is content for now to share in afternoon with his Guide.  He simply basks in her presence, brushing his magic gently against her side.  She doesn't so much as glance at him from her cake.  But she doesn't need to, the feel of her magic reaching back and trailing back just as lightly is enough to relax him.

Afterwards, they wonder the city.  It is something Sulahn has done since she first arrived and its something she intended to finish doing.  Fen'Harel finds another good sign when she lets him escort her around.  It means she truly means to give him that one chance.  

He intends to take complete advantage of it.  Already making plans and forming backup plans for those plans.  It is a good change of pace to his usual work.  While they walk around, they make small talk.  Little things, he starts with, to get to know his Guide.  He makes sure to answer any of her questions to the fullest of his ability.  His birth, so to speak, occurred in a village a little to the south of this city and he offered to show it to her.  

"It is not as populated as other places but it is warm and the people kind."

"I would like that." The smile she gives him is just a tad hopeful.  It makes his heart race.  "If there's a chance I can introduce you to Grandma-Oh!  Rathas, you should meet him before we do anything else."

"Rathas?" He frowns for the first time since meeting her.  Was that her traveling companion? "He is...your friend."

"One of my best friends."

"Ah, I see." She turns to him clearly amused.

"Are you...jealous?" The grin making its way across her face would annoy him if not for the fact that she clearly finds his jealously humorous.  Meaning she and her companion are not intimately involved.  Which is good.  He's sure killing the elvhen would not have won him any favors with his Guide.

"No."

"You are!" He loves the way her eyes light up and how she leans against him as she laughs.  Its at his expense but he takes it.  Her laughter is an absolutely beautiful thing to hear.  Still, he can't help but huff and wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her to him.  He is only slightly annoyed that its not solely because of him.

"Introduce us then, my life.  I wish to know all of you and you to know me."

She stops giggling and turns to him, shocked.  Fen'Harel mentally congratulates himself.  He guessed that figment did not refer to her in any other form of endearment.  No doubt the creature failed to properly romance her.  It makes the Rebel God all the more joyful.  

"Okay." she leads the way outside the city. 

As they make their way to her camp, she starts to ask him other questions.  About what books he's read or hobbies he enjoys.  Its relaxing and he answers every one truthfully.  How could he do otherwise? Especially since she has allowed him to continue to hold her so close to him.

She has only just started speaking about herself when she abruptly cuts herself off.  

"Oh, before I forget.  My friend? He's a dragon and if you hurt him you'll be leaving this world with a lot more holes than what you entered with. Am I clear?"

"A dragon?" Fen'Harel is skeptical. Surely he misheard.

"Yes. I didn't want to surprise you because if you shoot my dragon, I will have to set you on fire and feed you to him.  After I fill you full of holes."

He did not mishear. But dragons cannot be tamed nor do they care for those who are not mate or kin.  They are dangerous creatures that had even Andruil go to great lengths to prepare battle for.  It was expected that she would lose battlions of elvhen in battle or sacrifice to take one down and steal its form.  Not unlike Mythal, who once accomplished the same in her youth.  Even today, battles with dragons do not always go in their favor.  ~~Recently she has lost the power if her dragon form and will not speak of why or to _whom_ she traded such a gift to.~~

Regardless, his Guide wants his word and he shall give it.  It cannot be a real dragon.  Perhaps it merely resembles one?

"We would not want that, now would we?" he smirks and gives his word.  The Sentinels around them shift uncomfortably and he cannot blame them.

There is a barrier here blocking scent and sight. Cast by his Guide, he can tell.  It is beautifully crafted and he eagerly wishes to steal her away to his home further south so that he may learn all about her and that they may learn even more things together.

They clear a final brush of woods and come face to face with the sleeping form of a High Dragon.  

No one moves. Fen'Harel _feels_ his mind stall to a halt. 

"Rathas! I'm back!"

Except the lone Guide among them.  The massive creature stretches like a cat after a long nap, yawning, a mouth full of teeth sword length full on display.  Fen'Harel is rooted to where he stands as his Guide moves toward the massive creature and hugs his snout.  Her arms do not reach all the way across.  The Dragon purrs at her contact before turning his gaze to the waiting audience.

"That's a Dragon." Sulahn giggles, smile firmly in place.

"Yes. He is." 

" _How_?"

"The power of friendship!" 

He cannot tell if she's being serious.

But her grin isn't masking any form of deception.  Meaning she honestly believes her answer.  She believes friendship is the reason that dragon hasn't eaten her in all this time.

"How long have you to been friends?"

"Oh almost 200 years now.  And I never thought I would ever reach that age either."

"No?" slowly, the shock ebbs. "You...you have not yet reached 200?"

That should not surprise him. It should not take him off gaurd.  Many _Samsara_ by nature mature twice as rapidly as normal elvhen.  A normal elvhen at her age, barring Sentinels, are still considered children.  She would still be eating growing food under the protection of her family and any elvhen who come across her.

But she is _Samsara_.  She is as old as her memories.  Perhaps older.  How can time be measured by the passing lives of memory?

"Well, not here. Wait. No." Her smile is gone and turns to the Dragon, confused. "How do you count years? I mean, I've lived a hundred thousand lifetimes.  Some I've lived more than once.  There is one life where I slept for over 5,000 years only to wake and find the world in ruin.  But I lived that life at least a dozen times.  So, how do you count the years?  By the number you've spent awake?  By the smiles and the laughs you've shared? Or the experiences you have?"

The clearing is silent.  No one, not even her Sentinel have an answer for her.  _Samsara_ , the few they've had, rarely speak of their old lives and never has anyone present wondered at the ambiguity of time to a _Samsara_.  To be young and old, naïve and wise.  It would no doubt be maddening to anyone else.      

"Is it...difficult?  Knowing so much, remembering so many lives?"

"Not really." she smiles again. "I love it, so many friends and adventures.  Many were scary or cut short but I don't regret them."

"Cut short?"

"Oh, I died a lot, too." she says with a smile. "Some were pretty bad but its okay.  I'm here now and I'm alive right now.  That's all that matters."

"Is it?" he frowns, distressed.  The dragon no longer holding his attention in the face of this unexpected revelation. "You just admitted you remembered dying.  Multiple times and you just implied that each one was painful."

"Well, yeah but that's over now." She walks back to him and places his hand over her heart. "Feel my heart, how it beats.  That's real.  I'm real and I'm alive. In this moment.  Right now, this life is the only one that matters.  The rest? I lived them and I died in them, yes, but, its a distant thing.  Like something you'd read in a book."  

"They still matter." He wraps his other arm around her, pulling her close to him.  "Those memories..."

"Of course they do.  They shaped me, taught me and I don't regret going through them." She reaches up to cradle his face with one hand, "Terrible things happened.  That's true but so did other wondrous things and people! I met so many amazing people and I made so many great friends! I wouldn't trade any of it for all the wealth in the world."

Her expression is of rapture and joy.  So much so that he cannot help but to believe her.  To believe in her.  To believe that all of her suffering and pain pales in comparison to the happiness she gained and experienced.  

"Now," she takes his hand at her heart into her own, "I'd really like to introduce to you to one of them.  He made the jump with me when it was time to start over so I wouldn't be alone.  Think you can handle that?"

"I...yes, yes of course."

Fen'Harel exhales shakily but this new facet of his Guide is fresh in his mind and it will haunt him for some time.  As it is, the dragon is a good distraction, especially as he realizes the dragon is one such friend and what a friend that it- _he_ -would follow her into her next life?

"Would it be too much to ask how you too meet?"

"Oh, not at all!" She laughs. "Right Rathas?"

The dragon snorts inelegantly, but his eyes are sharp and intelligent.  This is no mindless beast.  Those eyes judge him, measure his worth and the worth of his Sentinels at his back but they let Fen'Harel near.  Whatever the dragon has decided, it will watch and observe.  He wonders if his Guide realizes just how dangerous her companion really is but just as quickly decides its irrelevant.  If the dragon wanted them dead, they would be dead.   

The couple settles between the dragons front legs and once it is clear they will be staying, the Sentinels cautiously prepare to make camp around them.  Cyvel sends one of the scouts back to the city to fetch the rest of Fen'Harel's party for the night and to inform them of the changes.  He is sure there are plenty more surprises in store for them all.  

* * *

They do no leave until the next day, spending the night camping around the, what is now known as a _Great_ Dragon, which far rarer than the High Dragon being both stronger and vastly more intelligent.  Many Sentinels had their attentions torn between their own duties, the dragon they were "protecting" and the opulent saddle on his back.  That the woman apparently used to _ride_ the beast!  If they hadn't seen her mount said saddle they wouldn't have believed it.  

But she did, once camp is packed and breakfast eaten.  Fen'Harel wisely and politely declined the invitation to ride with her.  ( ~~The side glare the dragon sent him also played a part in that but his Guide completely missed it)~~.

Not that his Sentinels can blame him.  The dragon adores the woman but seemed to only tolerate the elvhen god.  No doubt Fen'Harel already has a plan or two in place to win the dragon's favor.  ( ~~It may or may not include specially made armor according to the muttered ramblings from the unit's blacksmiths~~ ).  Fortunately, traveling to Fen'Harel's [palace ](http://wallpaperesque.com/wp-content/uploads/plixpapers1502/lothlorien_wallpaper_background_26370.jpg)is not difficult with an eluvian large enough to accommodate the large dragon situated inside the city.

Cyvel will secretly admit that marching into the city escorting Fen'Harel's Guide mounted atop her dragon's back with his God-King at the forefront filled him with an immeasurable amount of perverse **_glee_**.  The nobles stood aside in fear and awe, some even fainting in shock.  The topping was when the common elvhen knelt at their passing, worship evident in their fervent prayers.

A quick glance at his new Queen, however, showed a woman displeased as she glanced around.  It was hard to spot what with her riding a dragon, but the slight downturn of her lips and the slight narrowing of her eyes is evident that something has upset her.  Then just as quickly her face is carefully neutral.  It surprises him and the other Sentinels no doubt.

But then, maybe it shouldn't.  She is _Samsara_ , her experiences are so wide and varied that there is nothing about her that should surprise him.  She is alien to him and any habits or beliefs she has will also be alien to him.  At the same time, he cannot help but look forward to her differences.  It fills him with hope that the future holds promise for something better.

Also, he hopes with her having a dragon she considers kin, the other Evanruis will fear her and give his God-King the respect and influence he rightfully deserves.  For too long the other gods have enjoyed the best of spoils.  When the gods went to war with the Pillars of the Earth and stole their souls to power themselves further, did they think of his God-King? No.  Not even when it was his planning and his cunning that allowed the Evanruis to best the Pillars in combat.  Without him they would have fallen, _dead_.

He would not have missed them.

It was evident that they needed him however, when Mythal, herself, had to bargain, barter and _beg_ for his aid.

Cyvel knows not what she promised him as reward only that after thirteen days of fierce talks, Fen'Harel joined the others in their conquest.  It was quick and precise.  The Children of the Stone were saved from extinction but their gods were annihilated.  It was the only mercy Fen'Harel could afford to give them.  Any more and he risked bringing further attention to the vulnerable people.  

Mythal, at the very least, fulfilled her part.  She took the largest share of the spoils and gave half to his God-King rather than to her mate.  (The fat spoiled goat shimmered for days).  While such an act solidified their alliance, it also showed just how little the others valued his Lord.

Oh but he wishes he were there to see the other Evanruis reaction to this news!  

Rathas is a fierce beast with enough scars to prove his power and experience.  Hmm, perhaps he likes smoked jerky?  Or strips of bacon?  Cyvel is beloved by many of the chefs in Fen'Harel's many homes and temples.  He's sure he can sneak a few treats to the dragon if only to convince him to glare menacingly at the other Evanuris when they visit.

And they will.  Oh they will and Cyvel both dreads and anticipates that time.  He's confident that his Lady Revasulahn will not disappoint him.

* * *

Stepping through the eluvian is strange.  Its almost like walking through water but without the wetness.  It was really cool.  

She looks around slowly, making sure to take everything in.  They leave the city and enter the garden to a massive palace surrounded by an even bigger forest.  The palace is made of what looks like white marble with spires and towers.  Its pathways twined into the tops of the trees and stretched above the canopy into the sky.  There are numerous waterfalls streaming from aqueducts into a massive river below them.

A shining white palace, hidden by a large forest with trees wider than her dragon's head!  Its magnificent!  She already loved it. 

"I feel like I've just walked into Lothlorien, only better." she can't keep the smile off her face,"I think I'm in love."

"I'm glad my home pleases you." 

Fen'Harel had already dismounted and stood at her side, clearly preening at her appreciation.  After very clear instructions with the Sentinels and the stable hands, sees her leaving Rathas on his own for a hand bath which sounds great for her dragon and...interesting for the stable hands.  The Sentinels treat her saddle and her belongings like their a national treasure.  ( ~~Which she appreciates because her bags have all that remains of Alice~~ ).  She'd rather not have her things stolen for a variety of reasons but mostly because she'd rather not have the elvhen people and culture collapse.

"Show me around." Sulahn loops her arm with his.  She need a distraction from her own fears.  Now.

Fortunately, the Trickster is more than happy to show her every step and stone.  From the flowers to the elaborate stained glass windows, he describes how he built and designed every inch of this palace.  He allowed no other elvhen to step foot inside until he completed it.  

"I had decided when I presented long ago that this would be the home for my guide and myself." He turns to her, a touch of hope in his voice. "This would- _could_ \- be our home. If you wish."

"I'd like that," she whispers,"if you finish showing me around...I don't like cages."  He stiffens and holds her gaze.

"So long as even a fraction of my soul still exists, you will never be caged. You will never be held against your will." He wants to say more, she can tell but whatever it is he wants to say, he doesn't.  He just holds her a little closer.

He leads her into a large hall with rows of white marble pillars and large windows with natural sunlight filtering down.  The walls are covered in mosaics.  With very familiar designs and brush strokes.  She stops in front of one.  Its a lone white wolf in a forest with fish in the river and birds in the trees.  All the others animals are paired but the wolf.

"Did you paint this?"

"I did." He wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her flush against his side. "It is the only piece incomplete but soon it will be."

"Oh." She throws him a small smile. "Going to add me to your work?"

"If you will permit me, I would spend days capturing your likeness for all of time. Preferably with me."

"Maybe." Sulahn can't help but lean against him and relax. There is just something so comforting about him.  She can't put her finger on it. "Depends what you make me look like."

"I could paint you at a wolf like me but that might be confusing."

"Plan to show me off even in your work huh."

"Absolutely." the smirk he sends her is dirty.  Absolutely _dirty_.  She can see why he would be so dangerous.

"If not a wolf, what then?"

"Well, you are certainly no helpless hala."

"Got that right."

"Nor are you a mindless sheep. There is a...cunning gleam to your eyes."

"Mhm." Fen'Harel eyes gradually become more intense as he continues to talk. 

"You do not...cater to anyone I've noticed. Except perhaps your dragon. So you are no dog or hound."

"Keep going."

"You have a great deal of pride and yet...yet you don't show it." Here he actually frowns, confused.  "Why is that?"

"I show it. Just not like you do. I don't brag about my accomplishments for years after the fact.  Although, my accomplishments are well earned make no mistake."

"I don't doubt it." Suddenly, realization blooms across his face. "So you express your pride...humbly.  Such a contradictory thought...but that means you are also no cat."

"I can be cat like." She helpfully inputs grinning.

It earns her laugh and suddenly she knows why she's so relaxed around him.  He's carefree, unburdened with his own mistakes and guilt.  He is still full of so much optimism and hope for the future.  Its incredibly attractive.

He pretends to think for a moment.

"Aha!" He grins down at her, "I know what you are. You showed me. How could I have possibly forgotten?"

"You _are_ getting mighty old there. Oh! I think I see some gray hair!" He chuckles pulling her so that she is chest to chest with him.

"Hardly." His smile becomes soft, tender,"You are an eagle.  There is no question.  Fierce and free spirited. Unbound and unclaimed by the earth.  A true daughter of the sky.  You honor me."

He touches his forehead to hers and they close their eyes. They are silent and the sentinels keep curious eyes away.  After a long silence, Sulahn speaks. 

"I'm glad you still paint."

"It brings me joy to know that there is at least _something_ that was not ruined by that broken thing." She can feel his anger and repugnant for his other self, so she asks something else.

"Will you...will you paint with me sometime?" The shy request easily distracts him from his hate and he is quick to reassure her.  It sends tendrils of pleasure through his entire body.

"Whenever you desire."

His happiness gives her bit of a buzz, making her giggly and happy.  Like she drank two dozen coolers and ate a gallon of candy.  It feels like bubbles and sunsets at the beach during summer.  Sulahn embraces that feeling, that light Fen'Harel guards zealously.    

They are interrupted.

"Forgive me my King," one of the Sentinels starts, "but you have a guest."

Fen'Harel takes a deep breath, his annoyance becoming a physical presence.  Sulahn is certain he could give it form if he focused hard enough.  

"Who?"

"Lord Dirathmen, my King."

"Who gave him entry?" He growls, abruptly breaking away from her, eyes red.  Her eyebrows rise in surprise.  _'Solas eyes never did that.'_  

"I do not know."

The air shimmers around him, his magic aching to lash out.  Hungry for an enemy it could not see but knew was there, trespassing.  Fen'Harel's aura flares, blue and green, like blades and whips.  She can feel just how much hate he has for the other Evanuris for trespassing.  No.  Not just that.  For trespassing in the home he built for _her_ and with her here.  He feels threatened and insulted.  

He wants blood. 

"Go deal with him." Sulahn startles him out of his blooming bloodlust.  "I'll look around a little bit more before going to bed.  Its been a long day.  You can show me around more tomorrow.  I mean so long as you don't mind keeping him somewhere...small."

The rising aura of magic vanishes but not the emotions that caused them.  Those boil just beneath the surface. 

"Of course. Cyvel and Vavra will escort you.  When you wish to retire to your room, let them know and they will show to the Queen Suite."

"Sounds good. Just make it quick."

Suddenly, she doesn't like the idea of him leaving.  Her instincts finally deciding to smack her in the face.  She runs her hands over the edges of his tunic and over his wolf mantle.  Grandma went over every possible scenario with her about when she meets her Sentinel and the sudden burst of anguish and panic is not something she enjoys feeling.  But she's had practice controlling her panic and takes long measured deep breaths to center herself.

She forces her hands away and steps back.  He'd been watching her and feeling as she did him, a fraction but a sign of their growing bond.  A growth that is has been disturbed and Fen'Harel will see that changed.  

"No one touches her." He growls to the two Sentinels, eyes now gold. "No one."

"Of course my King." they bow as he passes them.

Secretly, they wonder if Fen'Harel will kill Dirthamen or the one who granted him entry, first.  It would surprise no one and there is no one who would fault the Wolf God for doing so. 

* * *

Vavra enjoys being a Sentinel of Fen'Harel.  She has experience many wonders while serving him but never did she think she would ever gain the honor of escorting his Guide.  The elvhen is beautiful and had she not belonged to her God, she'd have invited the pretty thing into her bed.  Ah well.  They move through the halls at a leisurely pace and Cyvel takes up the role of tour guide.  He answers the questions she has about the make of the palace and the people who are chosen to reside inside.  The more they walk the more people they see and greet.      

No one touches the Lady with the two Sentinels at her sides but many stare in awe.  As they should.

Still the Lady is different than what Vavra has come to know of nobles.  Lady Revasulahn greets everyone she's introduced to.  Every servant and Sentinel she greets by name with a smile.  Vavra watches fascinated as more than a few younglings blush and stutter farewells as they go back to their tasks.  She understands why, of course, the Lady is beautiful and her smile isn't malicious or cruel or promising dark intentions.  

It is a simply a kind smile saying 'hello'.   

Throughout it all the Lady makes no request until they spy a group of nobles waiting just around the corridor.  No doubt the nobles who follow Fen'Harel and the entourage that came with Lord Dirthamen exacting small talk before trying to gain favor with Fen'Harel's future Queen.  Interestingly, the moment she sees them she abruptly turns right around and walks back the way they came.  As if she didn't see the nobles at all.  

"My Lady?" Vavra asks carefully.  Did she something or someone that is dangerous to her? "Is something the matter?"

"Nope. Not at all." she is not panicked or afraid. "What else is over here?"

"Just the training grounds my Lady."  

"Let's go there."

"Of course."

Vavra exchanged a look with Cyvel.  What kind of noble chooses to go to the training grounds over gaining influence with other nobles?  The more she sees of this Guide the less she understands her.  Revasulahn is kind to those below her station and yet treats those equal or above her as if they were a plague or a wild rampaging beast.  Just who is this elvhen that Fen'Harel will ultimately call his mate, his wife and Queen? 

* * *

The training grounds are about the length of a football field and divided into three sections. One for spell casting, one for physical combat and one for "Dream Training".

Obviously the last one catches her attention. 

Apparently it is Fen'Harel's personal design.  He made it to snub June.  Something to do with a gamble, a bunch of naked prostitutes and spiced fire cakes.  Of course, she has every intention of wrangling the story from him once he comes around to her. 

From what the Sentinels describe, its like a more realistic VR system that veteran warriors use to teach their pupils about realistic combat scenarios.  Or as close as they can get.  No one actually dies.

Its just a large space with a massively complex sequence of runes covering most of the ground.  In each of the four corners is a wolf statue with an orb of a different color in their mouths anchoring it all in place.  The person sharing the memory will go to the blue orb to place the overall memory, modifications would be placed at the yellow orb, "emergency releases" are placed at the red, and to connect it all to use it, at the green orb.

Sulahn really wants to try it out.  She's also glad she chose to wear shorts and leg wrappings today instead of one of her dresses.  Her blouse might get ruined but she can always clean and mend it later.

But before she goes to try it out, she looks around at who exactly is here.  As expected the training grounds are occupied by a sizeable crowd and she can tell a large number of them are Sentinels.  More than a few bow to her in greeting before a group of four come up to greet her and her guards.  Three males and one female.  One male has black hair braided on one side and the other is shaved, one is a red haired female with her hair braided on both sides of her head and pulled back to make one long braid and two brunettes.  One has his hair in a high ponytail and the other has his up in a bun. 

"Greetings my lady." The evhen with black hair starts.  He's taller than the others, garbed in Sentinel armor that's a bit more elaborate with a great sword on his back. "It is a pleasure to meet finally meet you. I am General Zatralan and a member of Fenharel's inner circle."

"I am General Ionna, welcome my lady." Says the red head.  She's reminds Sulahn a bit of Sophie Turner just more badass.  She has two scimitars on each hip and what looks like an honest pair of chakrams on her back.  She hasn't seen any of those since her time spent as the Fateless One in the Kingdom of Amalur.  Definitely a total badass this one.

"I am General Vardis.  Welcome." The elvhen with the ponytail has a war axe on one hip, a short sword on the other and a Warhammer on his back.  She's guessing that _this_ guy is a tank. 

"And I am General Yelasan.  Come into this place in peace, my lady."  The last elvhen has a bow in his back and what looks like an honest to heaven samurai sword on his hip.  Was she looking at an elvhen samurai? How did anyone _forget_ these kind of fighters?  

Oh she's gonna have to make a stop at the library after this.  There will be _words_ to be had.

"Nice to meet you all.  I don't suppose one of you mind helping me with the Dream Training over there do you?"

"You have an interest in such a thing?" Vardis raises an eyebrow, curious. 

"Oh you have no idea. I'm surprised none of the other Evanuris finds it interesting."

"For a time they did but June's wrath and jealousy was a great and terrible thing to behold.  So to appease him none gave it a second look.  Not even Fen'Harel himself does more than make sure it is maintained."  Yelasan definitely has the zen vibe going for him, calm and collected.  

"Well I'll be sure to put it to good use. Good grief the possibilities and its just left here to rot."

The generals and the sentinels throw her more curious glances. But she is lead to the statues to start the process.  Although the activities around them continue, there is no doubt the veterans are paying her extra attention.  There is a slight buzz of excitement in the air.  The generals know better however.  She's been more than willing to share her previous experiences with their King.  Almost like an afterthought and it makes them nervous.  What price will her knowledge come by?

What calamity will befall them when she is done?

Oblivious, Sulahn takes her time at the blue orb, undecided. Something is telling her that her choice is important. That it will be a deciding factor in some unfathomable way. She mentally crosses out anything below PG-13 and anything with elves.  She does not need to stir up an identity crisis with the elvhen on top the issue with slavery.  She goes through her mental catalogue of games and stories and anime before finding herself down to two.  There were more than a few heavy contenders but many she hadn't seen in a long time and her memory is spotty or they didn't have what she needed.  The problem with her final two is that both are too futuristic.  Too advance.  Too alien.

She doesn't want to give away too much.  Or to disturb the natural flow of this world, the natural progression of its people.  At the same time, she's not feeling to kind or too patient.  Nothing ever comes to those who don't take risks or who live too cautiously.  Sulahn doesn't want to dampen the growth of the elvhen but at the same time, if she does nothing then history will take the reins.

The Elvhen will fall. Utterly.  She wants to help.  Truly, she does.  But...at the same time, she wants a challenge.  She wants to vent and rage.  She wants to shake the elvhen and their rigid beliefs.      

Its important. Her choice.

So she makes one.

~~There is a distant feeling of a door closing.  A point of no return.  A sigh of relief.~~

Sulahn focuses on the memory, on every detail.  On the rush, the fear and excitement.  On the despair and heart stopping terror.  On the horror inflicted on the innocent and the satisfaction at the pain of the guilty.  Survival and triumph won by the skin of your teeth.  It helps that she had gone through this game on break from the Inquisition and Solas.  The other orbs are easy and quicker to use after that.    

Before she can finish someone new marches into the training grounds.  He isn't dressed like a Sentinel or a general.  Another noble? 

"You have no place being here, leave." He has an ugly sneer on his face.  It makes him look like a Malfoy.  She doesn't like him already. 

"Oh?" she turns away from the orb. "And why is that?"

"Children have no place in the training grounds.  A set of rooms have been set aside for you and the staff have been made aware of the changes to your schedule."

"Changes?" She isn't the only one frowning.  The other generals stand closer and the training in the area comes to a stand still.

"Your status as _Samsara_ has not be legitimized by Lord Dirthamen."

"Wait." Vavra straightens in alarm. "You are the one who summoned Lord Dirthamen and granted him entry?  Do you have a death wish?!"

"No. I am my King's Steward and am responsible for protecting his best interest."

"No Tamvel." Zatralan cuts in and finally telling Sulahn the high strung elvhen's name, "You are to protect Fen'Harel's interest in his home against the other Evanruis.  Not betray the trust given to you.  It will be a miracle if he doesn't kill you for this transgression."

"If I am to be executed for making sure my King is not lured into some trap then so be it.  But I will not believe a word out of this charlatan's mouth until Lord Dirthamen approves of her."

"And I need your or dirthy's approval because?" She isn't smiling anymore because the more he talks the more she wants to punch his teeth out.  Does he even hear the words coming out of his mouth?

"Especially as Lord Fen'Harel, himself, recognizes her as his Guide." Vavra offers those listening.

"Did you just refer to Lord Dirthamen as 'dirthy'?!" Tamvel's face is a mix of horror, mortification and triumph. "If that is not the actions of a child-"

"Its not." Sulahn is getting really sick and tired of this conversation.  There is no arguing with idiots.  No that's not the saying, its reasoning.  There's no reasoning with an idiot. Which this guy was. "It the action of someone fed up with your _bullshit_.  Especially since it means _you're_ the reason my Sentinel isn't _with_ me." 

There is an oppressive silence at her words.  As if an invisible weight has pressed down on everyone there.  

"This is the reason I did not want you appointed as Steward." Vardis growls at the elvhen. "A baseline elvhen could never fully understand his King's needs or anticipate what or when a Sentinel's basic needs should be meet."

"And I suppose having another Sentinel at his back would be better?" Tamvel's comeback is quick but defensive.

"It would if he sees them as pack just as many of us already do.  There would not be so many issues between the people if you were assigned somewhere else."

"I agreed.  If you are not killed I will see that someone is made Steward to our King. Someone who would die before committing treason." Zatralan promises.

"Preferably one who will not interefer with a Sentinel and Guide bonding." Vardis adds.

Tamvel obviously disagress.  

"She is an infant. Guide or not she cannot be our King's bride!"

"With a dragon for a friend?" Ionna asks him in disbelief. "A Great dragon at that from what I saw with my own eyes."

"Ah." Sulahn sighs, tired of the argument. "I'm just gonna go now."

Tamvel turns to her with an air of anger, humiliation and something else.

"If you are _Samsara_ prove it." Tamvel glances to the ritual circle behind her. "Enter the crystals and show us."

"You are not one to demand anything of a _Samsara_ or of Fen'Harel's Guide, _Steward_." Cyvel's words cut deeply.  Several other Sentinels move a bit closer, tense.

"I can demand such from a _child_."

Sulahn is also getting pretty tired of being called a child, too.  But she's more mature than the steward who's throwing a tantrum in the middle of the training room.

"If you have an issue with that take it up with someone else." She was done with today. So done. "You are not my problem."

"So you admit you're a fraud. A charlatan come to lure our King away?"

"Away from what?" 

"His true purpose!"

"You sound more like a raging fanatic than a steward.  What purpose do you serve exactly?"

"Nothing a child would understand!" Tamvel belittles. 

"I'm not the one throwing a tantrum like one." Laughter echoes from all around the room. "But if you really have an issue take it up with your King."

"You would mock even Him?!  The one you claim to be Guide to?" Sulahn raises an eyebrow and looks at the others.

"Is he serious?"

"Come my friend." Yelasan steps forward.  To do what she doesn't know. "Lets go somewhere you may calm yourself a moment."

"No!" he growls. "I am perfectly rational. Most likely the only one rational left! Into the crystals!"

He pushes her back toward the ritual circle.  She's surprised he touches her but she moves with the motion because she doesn't like it.  She doesn't like the feel of his skin touching her or the brief touch of his magic against hers.  It feels gross and unclean.  It makes her feel gross and unclean.  She uses magic to purge his touch but the feeling stays.  Many sentinels notice and Cyvel steps between them growling in warning. Vavra steps right up to Tamvel's back, dagger posed to strike, to kill.  

"Have you lost your mind?!" Ionna says horrified. "She is our King's Guide. You have no right to touch her!"

"She's lying, just like all children do!" 

"Tamvel that's enough." Zatralan has his hand raised at Vavra, the only reason the Steward still lives. "You're over stepping your bounds."

"And you are all ignoring the issue! She is an infant. A child and you believe it natural for her to enter our King's bed!"

"Tamvel!" Yelasan snaps at the Steward in disgust.

"Join me." Sulahn's voice is soft but it silences them all. "If you want me to enter those crystal. You have to go in with me.  Just so I know you didn't set them up to kill me."

"I would not-" 

"You've made some _serious_ accusations against me since you opened your mouth.  Naturally, I'm going to assume the worse because of it."

Tamvel opens and closes his mouth several times before pressing them into a thin line.

"Far enough." Tamvel nods his head with a mulish expression.

The ritual is already prepped.  She already did most of the work.  Still, she's not just agreeing to shut him up, she's doing this to make a point.  According to the generals, anyone who enters the dream ritual can see and experience the memory as if it were actually happening.  The person sharing the memory only has to step in once at the very beginning to anchor the memory to the ritual.  From a technical perspective, to Sulahn it is no different from downloading a video and than hitting play. 

Her actions have three goals in mind.  The first is to shut Tamvel and any others like him up, the second is to make them regret ever trying to intimidate her into giving what they want and the last is so she can work off some steam.   

"Lets go." She turns on her heel and enters the crystal circle. "Try not to die too quickly."

"I'm a master swordsman." He frowns at her.

"Exactly." the crystals glow and the tension in the room skyrockets.  Magic explodes behind her eyelids and through all her senses.  It leaves her blind and numb, floating in an expansive oblivion...until she's not. 

Sulahn rolls to the side as soon as her feet touch the floor.  There's blood on the walls, people are screaming and howling.   Its dark but she can see just fine.  A necromorph impales its spiked flesh into a helpless patient dressed in white.  Another tears into a human's stomach.  A human in the room next to her screams as he starts to change, to morph into madness and suffering.  A human in a straightjack runs past her.  A very familiar human.   

" _Issac? Issac Clark! If you can hear me, run! Run!"_  

She follows, lightening sparking from her hands.  Its not like the game and it is.  Its more.  A slap to her senses.  No.  An assault.  The smell of decaying flesh is as real as the stale air she breaths.  Her feet trudge through blood and fleshy bits concealing on the cold floor.  The necromorphs pour in from every crevice and dark hole.  She watches Clarke's back.  Fire and lightening at her command as she takes on the horde.  Its more overwhelming than the game.  More real, more horrible, more fatalistic.  Its more than a dream or a memory.  Its both in high-definition.  

A flash at her side and Tamvel is there, sword in hand.  He's already panting, eyes glowing and dilated at the same time.  

"What is this?"

"Home." She laughs, high pitched and slightly hysiterical.  Its everything she asked for.  His face becomes pinched and pained.  No doubt she must look insane, laughing like that with her own eyes glowing in the dark.  

She doesn't regret a thing.  She's always played Dead Space on the second hardest difficulty before moving up to the most difficult levels, Impossible and Pure Survival.  But this is only game two so Impossible it will be.  She knows this place well.  She'll make it just fine.  Her fire burns hot enough to scorch metal and she doesn't hesitate to lash out at the morphs heading her way.  She aims at the limps and uses her lightening to maximum effect.  

With each attack she breathes a little easier, a little looser.  She doesn't let down her guard but she needed this.  The chance to really let go.  To vent.  That was also the point of her playing Dead Space in the first place.  Its a lot more real here.  Exactly like reliving a memory, a nightmare, but at the same time its because she wants to.  She wants to see that madness and fear so that she can mock it.

So she can laugh at it to its face.

They follow Isaac to the maintenance shaft and Sulahn doesn't hesitate to follow on her hands and knees.  Tamvel grimaces but goes quickly after.  They can still hear the  screams from inside but they don't slow down, not even when the glide through more blood and pushing aside chunks of human skin to get by.

"This place is madness." Tamvel whispers, voice trembling  but she can hear him just fine.

"Yes. It is."

Once Clarke is freed and armed, they keep walking.  Sulahn doesn't draw her sword, already knowing it would be a weakness with so many tight corners.  Still, she doesn't need it anyway.  When Issac's dementia takes form, she grimaces as the sounds grate against her senses, as reality twists and distorts.    

"Its not real." She growls over his shoulder and isn't surprised when he echoes the sentiment.  She trails after him like a ghost or a guardian and Tamvel, frightened, follows after her.  

* * *

Tamvel is no sentinel or guide.  He is born the last son in a lowly noble family.  He worked tirelessly to be noticed and chosen for a chance to serve one of the pantheon.  The pride and elation when he was chosen as Steward could never be expressed in words.  But he enjoyed the envy of his siblings and peers.  He saw new opportunities with his station, privileges he had been denied as the youngest of a family with low standing.

He thought himself above the common people.  He was sympathic to their suffering but only so much because his God-King cared.  So long as his King thrived so would he.

That is why he sought out Lord Dirthamen to confirm the status of his Guide.  But he ignored the warnings heeded to him.  He ignored the rumors and superstitions around the _Samsara_.  He ignored his Lady's silent fury.

Never did he ever think this is where his actions would take him.  Tamvel is no battle hardened brute but he has fought before.

Nothing like this.  He is covered in blood and ichor.  His clothes are covered in filth, torn and hastily patched at his knees and elbows.  His sword hand trembled even when he held his sword steady.

He battles without flar or flaunt.  Each swing of his sword is ferocious and desperate.  His skill is still there, still as refined as the steal its forged from.  But he does not gloat or flash his moves to intimidate his enemies.  He learned quickly that his opponents do not care for such dramatics. His opponents have no capacity for reason and it wears on him.

Travel can feel their intent, to rend and tear.

To kill.

That's it. That's all that they hunger for. To kill and spread their madness.  That is what they remind him of.  A sickness. A disease.  A plague. Endless and insatible.  They project thier intentions boldly, assured in victory.

He finds ice more than useful here. Solid freezing his targets and then dismembering them with quick and decisive strikes. Tamvel refrains from spirit magic so as to keep from discovering how the spirits might react to such trauma.  Would they be tormented and turn against him? Would they be twisted against their own purpose and driven mad like the people of this world?

Tamvel would rather not find out.  The other elements of destruction, fire and lightening, always seemed more fit for savages. For the common ilk.  He regrets not having a better understanding of how to utilize them and at the same time, he is glad he does not.

His lady, Fen'Harel guide, is a furious storm.  She weilds her magic like it is an extension of her. As if she is lashing out with her own two hands. Its terrifying in its beauty and power.

A reflection of a lifetime spent studying such magic.

And then another lifetime spent making it her own.

She is no child. She needs neither his protection or coddling.

A larger horde comes at them from down a longer corridor, she steps in front and fire forms around her.  It starts at her feet like the birth of a small tornado, before quickly engulfiing her entire body forming a massive bird, an eagle.  It shrieks a battle cry before launching at the abominations and incinerating those directly in her path.

It leaves her completely unscathed.  It is beautiful not because of its power but because of the complete control she exerts over it.  Tamvel could tell the first time she used such magic that she held back considerably.

It is terrifying.

She is terrifying. And beautiful.

He doesnt dare think her name. Or what it means. The power of it, of what it promises could set him down an uncertain path.  He is not positive he is ready for what that path might show him.  At the same time, he fears he has already started down the path and there is going back.

He feels the cracks the longer the fighting continues.  Hardly a second glance is given to items and technology of unknown origin.  There is no appreciation for the wonders of this world full of death, disease and terror.  Although he knows the things he sees are like nothing the craftsmen of June nor June himself could have ever imagined, it does not fill him with wonder.

The cracks turn to splinters when they stop at a nursery and Tamvel can no longer hold it together.  He breaks.  He falls to his knees in horror. He's seen them before, the children twisted and distorted as they barreled toward them to kill.  Tamvel had convinced himself that they were creatures made from the other abominations even though he saw as the people of this world were slaughtered and infected.  He convinced himself the children were saved.

To go into a nursery where they should have been safe...it shatters his delusions.  A sob escapes him and then another and another.

"He's done." The quickling called Clarke says.

"He's not." His Lady counters. "Come on. On your feet. We're not done."

"Why? I can't. I can't! I can't!"

His Lady gets down on her knees. Her _knees_! He dares to meet her eyes. Has she given in to the madness of this place? When he does, he is stunned by the kindness he sees there and the smile she gives.

It warm his heart.  A ray of light in this dark and cruel place. 

"You are afraid.  That's okay.  That's normal.  It just means you are about to do something very, very brave."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"So you may learn."

"Learn what? What is there to learn in this world of horrors?!"

"Stand up." She commands, still smiling. "Stand up and you will find the answer."

He doesn't want to and he wants to tell her that.  But from the look in her eyes, she already knows. She still wants him to stand. He's about to shake his head and collapse there on the ground when he hears them.  The abominations that stalk this world and turn his blood cold. 

His Lady stands, magic eagerly jumping to her command. The quickling raises his strange compound bow weapon and checks it.  She is beautiful and deadly.  An accumilation of all her life experiences.  The quickling is haggard, weary and exhausted.  His world is burning all around him, the scars in his mind seek to tear him to pieces and still he marches on.  So short is his life and yet...yet...

* * *

He makes his choice.

He stands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This marks the end of the introduction to the first arc of this three part series.
> 
> This is only the first part: Ancient Thedas and the Rise of a new Elvhen Society.  
> More on the others later. I really dont want to rush this because I'm afraid I might miss something. But I hope you guys enjoy!!
> 
> I tried to touch on the ambiguity of Elvhens and time/age. Make it a more philosophical aspect then a physical thing and I'm not sure how I did.  
> Kudos and Comments appreciated!!


	5. Meet the Neighbors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath. 
> 
> Small ripples make big waves. Sulahn makes her hate for legal illiteracy known...than sets out to fix it. Fen'Harel may just be in love with this mad woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had this done back in January...and accidently deleted it during the unfortunate time that the site was on the fritz. I had just saved it the day before and after editing I planned to post it. I had really wanted to post it that month and thought my internet connection was just being stupid slow. 
> 
> No. No it was not. T_T  
> Everything. Was. Lost. 
> 
> I kid you not, I spent a good hour crying in my bedroom. It was the longest chapter I had ever written and it. Took. Me. Weeks. I don't remember everything I wrote. I'll NEVER EVER remember everything I wrote.
> 
> So this is a new, new chapter. Enjoy.
> 
> * Winston Churchill

**_"My mother says when I get older my dusty hair will settle and my blouse will learn to stay clean, but I have decided not to grow up tame like the others who lay their necks on the threshold waiting for the ball and chain."_ ** -Esperanza, _The House on Mango Street_ (35.3)

* * *

Zaltralan has good eyes. 

It is a trait the has helped he and his fellow generals survive for so long and to aide their King in his endeavors.  He spots the moment his future Queen loses her patience and the seconds after, when she decides that Tamvel will suffer for it.  When she has him enter the ritual circle with her, Zaltralan sends a silent prayer for mercy.  Once they are inside, however, everything changes. 

On the inside, participants experience everything the original has felt, every pain and stress, every hunger and hurt.  

For those on the outside, the ritual circle is incased in a dome and others may watch as the battles unfold.  What their Lady had chosen is the very last thing anyone ever expected. 

It is _worse_. 

What his Lady has chosen to share is beyond his most terrifying imagination.  It is a glimpse into the Void.  It has to be.  A future where the Void and its monstrosities have spread like a plague and consume the living.  The creatures exude a malicious aura, a feral nature.  It does not take the watchers long to understand the mindset of these new abominations.

There is no pride, no sense of self-preservation, and no bargaining.  The abominations care only for destruction and madness.  The enemy is not one that will surrender after prolonged combat.  In fact, the enemy shows no care for mercy or fear.  Tamvel is no warrior although he practiced with a sword and dabbled in battle magic. He is no warrior and it showed.  He struggled with each encounter, taking hits and strikes he could have, with more experience, otherwise avoided or blocked.  His disorientation and lack of skill would have been passable had the unprecedented situation not exacerbated his terror.

But his new Lady?

She moves like a warrior and other times like a wrath, a ghost whose purpose is to observe, to remember the events that happen as they are happening.  Both are terrifying aspects of her but pale in comparison to her cruelty and her compassion. 

There are moments, fleeting as they are, where she is kind to Tamvel, encouraging even if the delivery is wrapped in a guise of scorn.  It is a method most used by veteran warriors for their trainees.

For apprentices.  It shows what kind of punishment she finds just.

By now, the training has gained a sizeable audience and the General can feel the awe and alarm rolling off everyone present.  After a battle through a nursery that will _haunt_ him and everyone present, she speaks a safety phrase and the two were released from the ritual.  As soon as they appear, Tamvel collapses and promptly loses his lunch.  His Lady is not troubled.  Saddened, perhaps, but not troubled. 

Tamvel is different. Broken and yet whole. Stronger in some way that he cannot understand. He moves forward to take the elvhen to Fen'Harel but Lady Revasulahn stops him.

"He has already been punished."

The trembling form on the ground is proof.

"Take him to the healers.  He will need their attention."

"Of course milady." Zaltralan bows his head and gestures to some of the guards to take Tamvel away.

And that is how the day ends. 

Later, after Fen'Harel forces Lord Dirthamen to leave and his short rage over Tamvel's betrayal is soothed by the Lady, the god demotes the elvhen.  Tamvel is fortunate the King does not kill him but time does not stop for the now lowly and disgraced elvhen noble.

Weeks and months go by. A year and than two.

The new couple bond ever closer and have started sharing bits of magic with each other.  It sends the servants buzzing and the nobles tittering with gossip.  The generals are simply glad that the bonding between the two is going so smoothly. 

Fen'Harel's attempts to bribe his Guide's dragon, Rathas, have likewise bore fruit.  While the Great Dragon enjoys a number of rich meat and succulent dishes of wild caught fish, the [armor ](http://campshapeshiftroleplaying.wikia.com/wiki/File:Dragons-of-Atlantis-Armored-Dragon.jpg)that his King had commissioned is impressive and pleased the Great Dragon, immensely.

It helped that Lady Revasulahn complimented her dragon in his new armor and that the entire set does not weight the Great Dragon down, being as light as a sheet.  It is colored a dark silver and made to accommodate his saddle. 

However, Zaltralan is uncertain if he should be glad for this or fearful of the repercussions of having a Great Dragon and the Trickster God on such good terms with each other.  Seeing the slight fear on the other generals faces fill him with little comfort. 

The only relief he felt is in knowing he is not on the other side of whatever schemes his King is no doubt creating.

His future Queen...did not elevate the situation.  There was a gleam in her eyes that Zaltralan did not understand, not than.  Not yet.

Throughout this time the General has also kept an ear on Tamvel's progress, like many of the other Sentinels.  Some days are good and others he just stares at nothing. The healers say they're doing all they can for him but hold no hope he will make a full recovery.  Ironically, a little over the third year since his experience, he proves them wrong by walking out of the healing halls. 

As others pass him and even stop to greet him, a drastic change is immediately noticeable.  He is careful when he speaks and has a look about him as his gaze falls over his surroundings, as if he were seeing it for the first time.

Tamvel, despite his careful demeanor, walks with a purpose to his destination.  He enters with his back straight into the God-King's [sunroom](https://www.buildingpartnershipsma.org/7087/sunroom-window-treatments/), in which Fen'Harel and his Guide preferred to relax and enjoy each other's company.  Lady Revasulahn, many are quick to see, is both incredibly elegant, bold, and affectionate.  The bond between her and her Sentinel has highlighted many of her traits, including her willingness to show such open affection to her Sentinel.

The couple have taken to sitting on the love seat together, legs and hands entangled.  It is a large change from what any of the elvhen are familiar with.  The Evanuris are so far above The People as to be incomprehensible to them. 

Fen'Harel among them.

He is the Kindest and Greatest of them all.  But He is also one of them and sees the world as They do.  When Andruil choose her wife, Ghilan'nain, they were not as Fen'Harel and his Guide.  The People can see the difference.  He is dedicated to her and She to Him.  For a time it was assumed that such behavior is due to their natures until the whispers came that Ghilan'nain _used_ to be a _Guide_.

She was once, like many other Guides, cloistered away within some of the Evanuris' temples for "protection".  She gained the attention and affection of Andruil, who bonded and shared her power with the former Guide.  It is no surprise that her ascension to divinity caused her to break.  For she had bonded with one who is not her Sentinel and even though she is greater than the People, she is the most broken.  

Only her bond with Andruil keeps her among the living.

When Zaltralan sees his King and his future Queen, sees every caress, casual glance and every kiss.  Praise Fen'Harel but never did the General or anyone else ever believe they would see one of the Evanuris _kiss_.  Yet, Lady Revasulahn does it so smoothly.  So effortlessly with her Sentinel that no one dares to tell her how strange it is to see their God-King so...relaxed and comfortable.  Normal.

As a result, it stands to reason that no one is willing to disturb anytime they enter one of these moods. Until Tamvel. 

The elvhen surprises many with his entrance into the sunroom and Fen'Harel goes still, gold eyes ringed red.  Everyone holds their breath.  The elvhen goes down to one knee but no further.  His back is straight and his eyes meet Lady Revasulahn's, so  _brazenly_.

"I would request the chance to try again. To finish the quest with your blessing, my Lady."

"My blessing?" She tilts her head slightly to the side, curious.

"Yes my Lady.  If you are willing."

Tamvel does not cower or prostrate himself before them.  He even _ignores_ Lord Fen'Harel as if he were not there! 

Something he has never done before. 

Something no one has ever done before!  In fact, no one's ever spoken to one favored by the Evanuris or one who will one day ascend to become one of them, like Ghilan'nain nor has anyone willfully _ignored_ one of the Evanuris. 

What madness has gripped him?  

Fen'Harel bristles visibly but the Lady puts a hand on her Sentinel's arm and he stills.  Unlike the Wolf God, Lady Revasulahn _smiles_ with **_pride_**.  It is the sort of pride that Zaltralan has seen before, the sort that means Tamvel has passed some unspoken test. 

She stands and walks over to his kneeling form.  He does not bow his head, maintaining eye contact.  He should know better but she does not correct him.  She stops before him and speaks.

"I have meet all kinds of people.  Paragons of virtue.  Renegades of ill-repute ad cruelty.  Scholars and rogues.  All of them wise in some way.  I give my blessing to you that you may complete the journey we started with a piece of wisdom from a very _memorable_ individual," she reaches out to gently cup his chin with her hand, " _'when you are going through hell, **keep going**.*'_ "

* * *

It takes another year for Tamvel to complete his task.

Not for _lack_ of trying but because events took such unseen turns that the elvhen had to find other ways to move forward.  The elvhen had found himself surprisingly enough  _suffocating_ as he enters the realm of the stars only to find there is no air! 

It takes him careful thinking and creative working of his magic with the aide of a blacksmith and several others before he can traverse the stars as those in the memory do with the use of magic.  Because apparently there are beings _capable_ of doing such things! 

Traveling amongst the stars. 

Never in their wildest dreams did the elvhen ever even _conceive_ of such an idea but here they could see it.  It was possible.  Not without dangers to be sure.  But possible!

_~~The idea! The notion! It plants a seed...~~ _

Still, Tamvel succeeds in the task set forth and soon other Sentinels take the plunge in the unknown.  They fight and learn as he did within the heart of their future Queen's memory.  It comes as no surprise that it changes them.

Witnessing the fight is very different than actually engaging in it, after all.

Undoubtedly, that was the Lady's intent all along. 

Zaltralan cannot argue it is a change for the better.  Combat against the other Evanuris' warriors is swift and unrelenting.  Fen'Harel loses less warriors and Sentinels in each skirmish.  Yet the body count for the other gods forces continues to rise. 

The warriors under Fen'Harel learn like Tamvel, learn how to _fight_ and **_kill_**. 

No longer do they take time to posture during combat as a way to intimidate the enemy.  This is especially true for Sentinels, whose very nature demands they prove themselves and protect that which is precious to them.

They do not waste time talking or fancy footwork.  They kill.

They **_evolve_**.

After a while Zaltralan's God-King expresses some concerns for those who went into the ritual and returned changed but Zaltralan can be just as cunning as his King when the occasion calls for it.  If it means he voiced his worry over the warriors being banned from the experience to his future Queen in the hopes that she will act and not cast him down for presuming to talk to her, than that is what he did.  

And She did act.  

Lady Revasulahn sets aside two days of personal use of the ritual circle.  When Lady Revasulahn and Lord Fen'Harel enter the circle for a private session, tensions were high.  These sessions have barred anyone else from seeing what happens and although curious no one dares defy her orders.  No doubt the lesson she wishes to impart is important and will heavily impact the faction under Fen'Harel's command and protection. 

When their King returns, the Sentinels are anxious seeing how utterly drained their King is but the emotion in his eyes is unwavering. 

 ~~Something Zaltralan and Cyvel have only seen when he has spent considerable magic reshaping reality or gone against the other Evanuris or the Forgotten ones in single combat.~~  

There is no doubt that their King has undergone a familiar change and that they will see that change come to bear fruit in the days to come.  

The generals cannot help but feel a great deal of pride for their King.  No doubt his task was leagues harder than anything else the others have faced and he returned stronger, steeled and undaunted.

It is just one of the many changes Lady Revasulahn has wrought and they are all the stronger for it.

* * *

Lady Revasulahn makes her way to the library, her entire countenance is controlled.  As controlled as one who is expecting to unleash a hurricane of unrelenting fury.  When she enters, her sharp blue eyes taking in everything quickly and zero in on one elvhen in particular.  The Head Archivist.

It makes Vavra want to draw her dagger and run away at the same time.

The Lady had asked for several books on a wide range of subjects some time ago, only to discover that they were not up to her standards. (The Lady's standards are incredibly high and many of the Wolf King's nobles have since scrambled to keep up.  Its hilarious to watch for the Sentinels.)

Or considered irrelevant to the people.  Vavra heard a rumor that the Lady nearly set a noble on fire with the same attitude who bragged about burning "heretical teachings" and was only saved by the timely intervention of her Sentinel.  Not that the situation got any better for the fool man.  Her King was not pleased either by the noble's ambition or his actions.  It is well known the Wolf God's preference for knowledge. 

A sentiment shared with his Guide. 

Without question.

That no name noble was later found to have been bribed to spy for Sylaise and executed accordingly.  The pair spent weeks going through the library, broken only to care for basic needs and for Fen'Harel to give orders to further his war effort against the other Evanuris, an effort which his Guide is proving to be more a help than a hindrance than the other gods were no doubt hoping for.

Such as right this moment, where her God-King had separted from Lady Revasulahn to cause chaos and hunt for a suitable courtship gift.  Again.  Vavra has seen many of his gifts, rare tomes and books, fine fabrics and armor.  All of which Lady Revasulahn has enjoyed and been pleased by.  In contrast, Lady Revasulahn has opted to _make_ her Sentinel gifts.

Something no other Guide has done before.

Its unexpected and not part of any tradition between Sentinels and Guides.  But she does it and each one brings a smile her King's face.  A smile she's never seen before.  A smile she's sure no one else has seen before.

And some of those gifts are the Guide merely giving him pieces of paper.  Whatever is on those pieces of paper must be incredibly important.

Still..

Vavra wondered if his next gift will have anything to do with the verbal lashing Lady Revasulahn is giving the archivist.  Her Lady walks like a predator, a hunter going for the kill and all in the library watch with bated breath, unwilling to move for risk of inviting her ire.

"So you, in your limited wisdom, decided that the servants, followers of Fen'Harel are unworthy of seeking sanctuary here?  That you, without knowledge or permission from my Sentinel, could deny those who sought to better themselves with the information Fen'Harel and I have worked to make available?"

Its not really a question.

Everyone knows this.  The couple spent considerable time "fixing" the library to the Guide's near impeccable standards and at the end Lady Revasulahn made it very clear that ALL people are allowed to seek knowledge to better themselves.

Anyone preventing the servants from doing so acted against her wishes and by extension, Lord Fen'Harel as well.

"I completely understand the desire to better oneself I do!" Here, the man shifts uneasily before straightening his spine and looking down on her.

Typical noble. 

"But, surely, Milady understands the dangers of letting them access too much knowledge? It can only bring chaos and instability!"

"Only ignorance breeds chaos not knowledge."

She says it so matter of fact, so easily and simply, Vavra cannot help but agree with her.  It is that simple for more than just her own personal beliefs.  How many times had false information almost cost the Sentinels their lives?  How times were lives lost due to false and a lack of information?  And just on the field of battle!  Why should anything or anywhere else be any different?

"You are, effective immediately, removed from your post.  Will you resist?"  _Will you fight my command?_  

Vavra steps closer, intent.  They routed out one spy already.  Will this one prove to be another?

"I...I understand, milady." He bows, contrite and still prideful but submissive.  This noble will not cross her.  At least not now.

"Leave."

As he scurries out of the library with as much dignity as he can keep scrapped together, Sulahn's gaze travels over all of those present.  They stop on two familiar faces, one noble and one servant.

"You two, come here."

The noble is a girl not a child but not a full adult either.  She is a pretty thing with cinnamon skin, soft brown hair tied up in an elaborate braid and soft blue eyes highlighted with glittering kohl.  The servant is smaller and younger, also a girl.  Her own skin the color of dark honey with soft dark tresses carefully braided on the sides and pretty brown eyes.  Oh, she'll be a pretty thing when fully grown.

The noble girl Vavra isn't familiar with but the servant she knows is Lady Revasulahn's favorite baker.  The Sentinel recalls Lord Fen'Harel saving her from Lord June but was too late to save her family from the Mad Tinkerer.  Not a word was spoken from her lips until the day Revasulahn had hugged the girl, crying tears of joy.

Apparently, the girl's family had been prolific makers of desserts.  While many of the nobles didn't see the appeal in some the "nontraditional" desserts, Vavra knew they made enough of the "normal" stock to support themselves.  But those same desserts are a favorite to the Lady and a reminder of the Guide's departed mother.  No one knows what her first words were to the future Queen and no one has asked.

But it is very clear that if there is so much as a hair out of place on the little elvhen's head, oh, would there be blood!

_("I mean it, Fen, if even one glare-_

_"Yes, yes, my raging eagle. I understand and there won't be.  But if you coddle her she might withhold the cakes from you."_

_"I'm not coddling her!"_

_"Of course."_

_"Stop smirking because I'm not. I'm just protecting my interest, is all."_

_"Yes, I understand."_

_"You're still smirking. I'm looking at you."_

_"I'm simply admiring my beautiful Guide.  You are especially gorgeous when you're flustered you know."_

_The glare she sends him is marred by the bright flush growing the longer he stares.  No doubt the Sentinel is proud he can still make the proud woman react in such a way even after three years into their betrothal._ )

"Lini." Lady Revasulahn smiles at the servant. "You still want to learn your numbers correct?"

"Yes, me lady." The little girl shifts on her feet, nervous.  She is the Guide's favorite but even that has dangerous implications.

"To make your own store later right?" 

Lini's eyes go wide in shock and a little fear.  No doubt having grown up on stores of what happened to the favorites who tried to leave or run from one of the Evanuris.  Vavra's Lady may not be one but it is only a matter of time now.  However, if Lady Revasulahn were like the others she would have already made plans to keep the little one as close as possible. 

Including sabotage and mutilation.

"Well, the library is open to you and the others so you shouldn't have too much trouble." She smiles at the little girl before turning to the noble. "Now, if my memory is right, you're the daughter of Thelnar, correct?"

"Yes, Milady." The noble curtsies but she's tense. "I am his third daughter, Athelle."

"He betrothed you to some noble, what's his name?" It clear to Vavra that the Lady knows more than she's saying but that she honestly doesn't care for whoever the man is.

"Sorvel, a small noble lord near the border of Sylaise' territory."

The Guide's only reaction is a slight tilt of her head.  Interested but not overtly concerned.

"And, what are you reading?"

"Embroidery milady."

"You sure?"

Athelle shifts on her feet uneasily and bows her head. "Numbers, malady."

"Show me."

The poor girl starts to tremble but quickly takes her things from the table behind her and gives it over.  Its nothing Vavra understands.  All she can see on the parchment are numbers jumbled together.  Equations and formulas that make no sense to her.  Her Lady, however, shows shock and surprise.  Her gaze turns to the noble girl.  But its different now.  Intent and sharp.

"Do you know what this is?"

"Its just numbers. Patterns and things. I...I.." 

"It's impressive."

"My lady?"

The girl jerks like she's been hit.  But she's as confused as everyone else.  Lady Revasulahn looks over the book she was using, glancing at a few pages and stopping at certain places.  She looks over certain diagrams before closing the tome and putting it on the table with a frown.

"Here's a deal Athelle." The guide's expression is serious.

"Teach Lini her numbers, teach them well and correctly, and I'll give you a book from my own personal library. Something that makes this..." She waves a hand over the book.  "Look like child's play.  Interested?"

The shocked silence that follows that offer is profound.  Vavra knows how ardently the guide guards her possessions.  In fact, she keeps her prized texts and tomes well out of sight of everyone.  Including Fen'Harel!

The few personal things anyone has seen are kept with her dragon.  And anyone attempting get anything from a Great Dragon are asking for a death sentence.  So being offered a book from her personal library is a great privilege.  Something that will surely incur the jealous wrath of everyone within castle.

"Why?"

And the fool girl questions her!

"Why not?" The guide fires back.

"Because I am a spare, milady. I will not inherit anything from my father's estate since I am not heir." 

"Who says being a spare makes you lesser? Who said anything about me needing your father's wealth?"

"Then why? What use is knowing these things? Numbers and patterns and such?"

The grin that spreads across her face sends a thrill down Vavra's spine.  Its one part amused and one part...something.  Something like hunger and hate.  Something like scorn and vindication.  Intelligent and cunning.

"Oh, sweetheart," she practically purrs at the girl, "there are _plenty_ of things those numbers and patterns can be used for.  Things you couldn't even begin to comprehend.  And it just so happened I have need of a mathematician."

Lady Revasulahn's eyes start to glow in delight.

"Do we have a deal?"

The girl is quiet for a stretch.  She stands before the elvhen who will one day become one of the Evanuris, shaking.  Someone moves behind them and Vavra glances back at the gawkers with her hand on her blade in warning.  Athelle must have seen someone or something because she straightens.  There is steel in her eyes and even though she still trembles...

"We have a deal."

She accepts the wager. 

* * *

Revasulahn knew how to behave.  She knew how to be polite and passive.  She knew the game of politicans and socialites, how words can be as sharp as knives.  But she also knew the cost to them.  What is said cannot be unsaid afterall.  When one lived for the game and when one killed for it, that was all that existed.  Sulahn vowed the first night she realized where she was that she would not become one of them.  Not because of Fen'Harel or the Evanuris, not due to the numerous sitcoms, tv dramas and movies she's seen like Game of Thrones.  It is because of all of these things and a trans boy named Harvey.

Harvey, who took his father's gun, put it to his head and pulled the trigger. At 15, a freshman in her high school.

His father was an honorably discharged marine and when he returned from his tour became a member of the State Police. 

Harvey wasn't buff or sporty.  He was a pacifist.  He wanted to be a web designer and save the planet. 

Harvey was always putting up posters about recycling and other things.  Alice thought he was adorable but kids can be cruel as easily as they can be kind.  At their private school the kids were especially cruel to those without status or wealth, who were seen as cattle, having very little worth.  Not like Alice did, and Harvey didn't have that fire inside of him, the deep primal urge to defend and fight for himself like her.

So she tried to do it for him and for a while everything seemed fine, until one day he goes to her begging her to stop.  Telling her that violence is never the answer and even though she agreed with him, she always believed her friends were worth fighting for.  Harvey breaks down in front of her, crying in her arms, thanking her over and over.

Alice should have known something was wrong then. 

She should have known.  She knew better but somehow, she missed all the signs. 

She was 16. 

When they went through his things, a present with her name was given to her.  No other notes or videos saying why.  His parents were heartbroken and his little sister wouldn't stop asking about him for days.  Alice's "present" was a USB full of videos, a record, showing his abuse.

And his rape.

Alice, who had cried at his funeral with his parents, had also stood next to his rapists, completely unaware.  She had wanted blood, to pound her fits into their faces, and claw the skin from their bones.

She took the evidence to the police.  Normally, she'd take it to his parents but his father was a cop and if there is one thing she counted on is that cops take care of their own, especially when the kids are involved.  Alice isn't disappointed.  It doesn't stop her from going to school right after and punching the quarterback in the face.  She stares down two other players on the team with absolute disgust. 

Its the first time she learns to **_hate_**.  

After some time she's ask to testify to the abuse she's seen and tried to protect Harvey from.  To the abuse teachers and faculty looked away from because the quarterback and his friends had powerful parents.  Powerful conservative parents who firmly believed Harvey was a _girl_ who lead their sons on.  They try to bribe Alice, the parents, to silence and intimidate her but she stares them down.  Her hate greater than any kind of fear they tried to induce.  For once her brother and her father are on her side and they don't try to pressure her to stop, to hide away or try to "protect" her. 

She's grateful.

It doesn't change how she feels.  It's the first time she wants someone **_dead_**.  The first time she wants to **_murder_ ** someone. 

They don't try again and she enjoys as Harvey's tormentors fall from grace.  It's also the first time she doesn't recognize herself.  She becomes like them.  The prissy girls hunting for a easy husband to take care of them or for a rival to destroy.  Alice becomes the monster she never wanted to be but she's lucky.  Alice had one friend left to show her what she'd become. 

She will forever be grateful to Willow for saving her from herself.  

Because of Alice and Grandma, Revasulahn knows how to play the game but that doesn't mean she will ever willingly play it, not like the others.  She has too much to lose if she does that, if she gives in.  So she refuses to play like them.  Not even like Fen'Harel.  Whatever plan he has in the works is his game, his battle.  Her fight begins right now.  It begins when she takes the rules of the game and turn them upside down until the very nature of the game is nothing more than a corpse rotting at her feet.

Does the game have its uses?  Of course.

Diplomats and lawyers have used it to navigate dangerous cultures, customs, and courts for millennium.  That doesn't mean there aren't people who abuse the system, clog the pathways, and make a mess just for kicks and giggles.  Does this mean she'll accept the way the Evanuris have played it thus far?  Hell no.  It won't take long to suss out their weaknesses.  Everyone has them and the Evanuris have so many, especially their damn pride.

Revasulahn isn't arrogant to say she doesn't have weaknesses.  She is well aware of them, her likes and dislikes.  But her weaknesses? They are also her greatest strength.  Family and Friends.  She isn't afraid to go to bat for them, to fire and salt the earth in defense of them.  But this protection can also harm her, backlashing horribly and without remorse.  She doesn't regret this part of her.  Without giving trust how can she be certain someone is worthy of it or not?  

 ~~Her other weakness is rats.  Of which her response is to fire first ask _no_ questions later. The little disease carriers deserve to die as far as she's concerned~~.

The Evanuris are different.  Their pride is backed by serious skill and while breaking that pride would be incredibly hard, it is not impossible.  What can harden can also hurt it.  Something more is needed, more concrete and sharp.  Fortunately for her, Mythal, Sylaise, Ghilan'nain, and Andruil have decided to join her for lunch. 

 ~~She thinks this with utmost sarcasm because she knows for a fact that Fen'Harel went to get her another gift and left clear instructions that _no one_ was allowed entry to bother her~~.

The couple chose to rest at one of Fen'Harel's [temples ](https://www.artstation.com/artwork/d84AK)further south of their home. It was a beautiful temple, full of green, gold, and flowing water.  The wolf statues are everywhere except inside the atrium of the temple.  There is a instead a statue of Fen'Harel himself which Sulahn thinks is hilarious because his statue is wearing a leaf crown like something out of the Lord of the Rings.  

He endured her relentless teasing like a good sport.

Sulahn had taken her lunch in one of the garden's attached to Fen'Harel's temple so that she could spend time with Rathas.  Dragons don't fit into all the doorways, although the temples are much more roomy.  The temples are still huge and Rathas loves going to them to sunbath...and get belly rubs from the children.  ~~So spoiled but she can't blame him.  He lives like a freaking prince and her Sentinel has been bribing him for the strangest things.  She doesn't ask.  She doesn't want to _know_. ~~

Out of the corner of her eyes she notices a sudden increase in the number of Sentinels patrolling and guarding the gardens.  Sulahn gestures to servants to take the food back just as some of the Evanuris come into view.

"Is there something wrong my lady?" one servant asks just as Mythal and her posse take seats across from her. 

Rude.  Very rude.  She didn't invite them to join her or to take seats.

"I've suddenly lost my appetite," she says looking directly at them.  "Make sure it doesn't go to waste."

"Ah," the servant glances nervously at the other Evanuris before bowing slightly and collecting the plates.

"Leave them." Mythal commands. "We could use a late lunch."

"No." Sulahn cuts off, "Intruders do not get to issue commands."

Mythal startles but its so minuscule if Sulahn wasn't watching for it she'd have missed it.  Fortunately, the servant reinforces her authority and continues to collect the plates.  It's not a lot, thankfully, and with the help of another servant that comes from the shadows, no doubt called by one of the Sentinels, the food is gone.  The tension is instantly thick between Revasulahn and the other Evanuris.  

Her defiance already giving them an idea that this meeting will not be going how they planned.  They look her over, curious but judging.  As if they have any place to judge her.  There's no doubt they'll say a lot more right now with Rathas out playing taxi with Fen'Harel than if he were here at her back like he normally is.

"So," she starts before they can take control of the conversation, "what can I do for Fen'Harel's brethren and _not_ - _friends_."

Revasulahn doesn't make it a question because they want something.  Considering the not-so-secret cold war happening along the Evanuris borders, there can be no other reason they'd come here when Fen'Harel is out and his Guide is alone.  Sulahn hadn't realized the fighting had already started when she arrived on the main land but from what she understands its not really a "war" as it is a fight for power in the form of worship. 

In her mind its like the major religions of Earth have replaced all major governments and have decided to settle for a knife fight instead of a nuclear one.

"We were simply curious as to who would be paired with our dear Fen'Harel." 

So, Mythal is leading this pack of vultures.  Expected and unoriginal.  Andruil, however, will need to be watched because Sulahn remembers something about her catching Fen'Harel and demanding he be her lover for a year.

Not. Happening.

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know."

Mythal looks startling like a younger, elfy version of Flemeth with the same horn hairstyle and everything.  There's just a lot more gold than white to go with the purple.  Alice loved how powerful Flemeth was compared to other women in the game especially the female mages.  She was complex and mysterious.  There was a kindness to her enforced with a mind of steel and a smile that held a world full of secrets.  But here?

Revasulahn hates how entitled she is.

The older elvhen no doubt has some long term game in place but Sulahn does not have the patience for bullshit mind games.  Not from her and not today.  So, she throws out a curveball and is satisfied by the brief look of confusion that crosses not only her face, but the others as well.

"I...had no idea." 

Ooh, she's cautious now.

"Yes."

"It is fortunate, than, that I am not a cat."  Gold eyes assess her.  "Allow me to introduce my daughters, Andruil and Sylaise." Mythal gestures to Andruil's other side where another elvhen sits primly.

"This is my daughter's mate, Ghilan'nain."

"I'll pretend to care." Sulahn says with a smile. 

It's a nice smile.  Its a smile she practiced a long time ago.  Its the smile she wears when she's somewhere she doesn't care to be with people she plans to forget at the end of the night.  

Insulting these women is something no normal person would do but Sulahn isn't a normal person.  She gives no shit for their comfort.  On the other hand, being so disdainful and unimpressed toward them early on will give her a good measure of the type of people she's dealing with.  There are many kinds and the best way to measure someone is seeing their reaction to confrontation and conflict.

Sylaise's jaw drops open in shock.  Andruil's expression turns dark and an ugly scowl contorts her face. 

"Show your betters proper respect!" Ghilan'nain _screeches_. Which, what the _fuck_?

Mythal blinks once and than smiles.

"If that pleases you."

Oh, this bitch is good.  And dangerous.  It says volumes of her if she's encouraging Sulahn to be disrespectful.

"It does." Sulahn keeps her smile. "Now, what are you really here for?"

"So accommodating."

"Hardly. I really want you gone." She waves a hand in a 'hurry up' gesture. "So, if you would say your piece so I can kick you out that would be perfect, thank you." 

"Oh, I like you girl." Mythal says with a laugh.

"Mother!" Sylaise looks scandalized. "What kind of precedent would it set if a Guide is allowed to act such a way?"

"Considering she is bonded to Fen'Harel, I doubt it matters."

Sylaise clears her expression even as Andruil glares.  They really can't say anything to that.  As his Guide, any attack is cause for all out _war_ and holding the largest group of combat Sentinels makes that a very dangerous route to take.

"I am incredibly curious where you are from." Again, with those calculating eyes.  Sulahn wants to cut them out. "Apparently, no one has ever heard of you or meet you beyond Arvelon."

"Everyone is examined at birth for the slightest possibility of awakening." If Andruil could kill with her eyes, Sulahn is sure she'd be dead a hundred times over, at the least. "So how did you escape notice?"

"Why would I tell you that?" 

"It is merely a precaution against abuse." Mythal is still studying her but there is also a smidgen of a smirk on her lips. "There are so few Guides and so many Sentinels, we do not want to have an incident."

Sulahn calls bullshit.  So much bullshit that not even _beetles_ would believe it.  Something in her expression probably gave her away because Ghilan'nain opens her mouth.

"Sentinels can be brutes you know.  Fighting over a Guide isn't uncommon and can be really uncomfortable to watch."

What?  No, seriously, _what_?  It takes everything not to face palm at her answer.  There must be something wrong with this woman.  Maybe the whole ascending with someone not her Sentinel messed her up more than anyone thought?

"Well in that case," she leans in a bit, not too much and lowers her voice, "Can you keep a secret?"

Ghilan'nain brightens and the other woman, besides Mythal, lean in just a bit as well.  Their curiosity and greed no doubt getting the better of them.  Mythal is attentive but nods her head when Sulahn glances at her in agreement and the other women follow suit.

"Good." Sulahn smiles again. "So can I." 

She leans back as the other women take in what she just said.  While Mythal looks amused and approving? The others' expressions are so worth the risk.  

Unfortunately they shock and disbelief doesn't last long.  Sylaise is quick to take point now that Mythal looks to be taking the back seat.  Which is helpful.  If Mythal does all the talking, Sulahn can't get a good read on the other women.  Well, besides Ghilan'nain.  Sulahn didn't need to be a trained psychologist to know something was very wrong there.

Very wrong.

"It must be exhausting having only a man for company.  We are also here to help diminish the loneliness that Fen'Harel has forced upon you.  There are certain things woman can only talk about with each other, after all."

"That is true." she nods in Sylaise direction. "But there are plenty of women here to keep me company."

"Oh?" Sylaise frowns. "I did not think you would find the common rabble so interesting."

"We have plenty to talk about."

"Like the rumored memories you share?" Andruil eyes her like a wild dog would a piece of meat.

"Oh, no." Sulahn giggles slightly. "That's old news.  We talk about other things...like toys.  I didn't bring any with me when I came to the main land and sadly, what I'm familiar with isn't available here."

Mythal laughs at the other women's expressions.  Sulahn can't help but grin, too.  Andruil can't seem to decide if she's offended or not and the less said about her wife's expression the better.  But Sylaise has that silted smile, secretly trying to hide her 'wtf' expression.  It slides off soon enough as the woman regains her balance and the Evanuris' eyes become sharp, almost cutting.  

"I see." She nods and eases a more natural smile on to her lips. "Fen'Harel can be so reckless.  I did not think him so cruel as to keep his previous lovers around you."

"You've spent far too much time listening to gossip, daughter." Mythal catches Sylaise gaze and holds it.  Carrying some message Sulahn can't read. "Fen'Harel never kept a lover for more than a night in the capital."

The All-Mother turns to Sulahn, expression serene.

"That was a long time ago. Sometime before he found you.  Now that you two are together, I doubt he has any reason to be dissatisfied." 

"Fen'Harel seems fine to me." She can't help a sly smile from spreading across her lips. "Very _fine_ , in fact."

They might not have had sex yet but she isn't going to let them know that.  Oh, they've made out.  They've caressed each other and started sleeping in the same bed but they haven't gone all the way.  Which drives Sulahn flipping nuts.  The only reason she's managed to survive is because of her large and diverse erotic porn collection. 

Heaven and Hell help her if she has to go much longer without getting the Trickster into bed with her.  Sulahn might be forced to tie him up and jump him just so he can get the damn hint!  She appreciates the effort he's making to show his devotion.  She really does but over three years later?  She's pretty damn convinced!

In a disturbing twist, Andruil's expression completely changes.  She relaxes her stance, wipes the glare from her face and smiles very sweetly.

"He can be a real troublemaker, however.  When he makes a mess of things you can just send him my way." Andruil's smile brightens. "I'll be more than happy to punish him for you." 

"Why would I do that?  Especially when I can punish him myself?"

"There are certain techniques that my mate and I use to.." Here, she licks her lips.  Did she think that was attractive?  "...discipline unruly elvhen." 

"Oh, so you and Ghilan'nain share a bed?" To the mentioned elvhen, Sulahn turns and looks her over.  She's pretty, caramel skin and silky brown curls fall in soft waves around her face. "Well I'm glad I won't be joining you."

She turns back to Andruil and says straight to her face, "I wouldn't want my Sentinel to put his cock in crazy.  I'll pass on your offer."

Its no surprise that Andruil snaps, outraged. 

"Y-you-you're just a pet Guide! Something Fen'Harel can toy with!  You couldn't hope to ever come close to the bond between us!" Sulahn is unruffled and it seems to incite the huntress even more.  Andruil growls, magic flaring, trying to intimidate her.  "You are no one!"

"Yes, you're right." Sulahn smiles as if she's heard something funny. "I am Nobody.  Who are you?"

Andruil's magic swells as she stands, shoulders back and chin aloft.  She looks like the goddess the people worship her as.  Ghilan'nain sighs in awe of her lover, gaze smitten.

"I am the Lady of the Hunt.  I am Sister of the Moon, Mother of Hares, and Creater of the _Vir Tanadhal_.  I am Andruil!" The snarl twist Andruil's beautiful face into something ugly and monstrous. "And you?  You nobody, should be kneeling at my feet, begging for forgiveness!"

"Oh, I see!" Revasulahn makes it obvious she's exaggerating her shock, "You're a Nobody, _too_."

There is a smile in her eyes, like she just shared a great secret only she understands.

Andruil lungs for the fragile looking elvhen but is stopped by Mythal.  The appearance of several more Sentinels, two of whom stand on each of her sides, reminds the other Evanuris of exactly where they are.  The tension skyrockets as the entire garden becomes filled with the Sentinels of Fen'Harel.  There is no question that the Dread Wolf will soon make an appearance.  Mythal acts quickly to gain back control of the situation.

"Such violence, my daughter, is unbecoming of you." She gives Andruil a long Look.  

* * *

Not for the first time Sylaise is leery of this Guide, of the _Samsara_ , who smiles with her mouth and kills with her eyes.  She does not know what game her mother is trying to play but Sylaise already knows it is all for nothing.  This elvhen cannot be bought or bribed.  She will not be intimidated.  Blackmail would be the same as setting her own people on fire. This Guide knows how to play the game, very well in fact, if that little show against Andruil is anything to go by.  

However, she seems to not care to push beyond it.  No. That's wrong.  It's more...she doesn't find them worth playing with.  Even if she did, she would not hold her tongue.  That is a certainty. 

Revasulahn certainly lives up to her name.  

Everything she says holds a ring of truth to it and she speaks without fear of consequence.  She speaks her mind uncaring if the recipient would kill her for it.  Sylaise wondered if the Guide fears death by any of the Evanuris.  Maybe not?  According to rumor, she remembers every death she's endured and experienced.  She knows the details of every painful way she has died and still lives each day as if it were a special gift. 

Such a strange way to view the world.

Almost spirit-like.

If that is the case than it is no wonder the Wolf is so enraptured by her. Still, such deaths must pale in comparison to the deaths her kin can import?  Surely the elvhen can see that?

"I dislike being played or disrespected." Andruil's fury holds steady. "I do not think this is a game."

Her sister can be just as cruel as any of the others.  Perhaps Sylaise can use this?  The woman will want companionship.  True companionship.  If she shows how merciful and benevolent she can be the guide will want her as a confidant and having the ear of a new power will no doubt increase Sylaise influence.

"What my daughter means," Mythal intervenes, again, with a smile, "is that Fen'Harel is yours.  That is not in question.  But we are all kin and we are all open to sharing new things.  Its not everyday that a Sentinel of Fen'Harel's caliber finds his Guide, after all."

Mythal sends Andruil a scolding look, like a true mother disappointed in her daughter.  Andruil begrudgingly looks away, as expected.  Although, Sylaise notices a hint of self-disgust and resentment with the action.

Revasulahn, however, is umoved and unimpressed.  She stares the All-Mother in the eye, challengingly.

"I do not share." She stands up, "Especially if that means sharing my Sentinel."

At that moment a massive shadow blocks out the sun, Sylaise looks up and sees Rathas for the first time.  The rumored Great Dragon which the _Samsara_ commands and who lands behind the Guide with a familiar figure on its **_back_**.  The dragon looks at them and its as if she's staring into the eyes of one of the Evanuris.  As if she were trying to match wits with her mother. 

Sylaise feels a cold shiver run down her spine. 

This is no beast. Even as it bows its massive head to _nuzzle_ the elvhen with its hulking jaws.  

The surreal picture of such actions are offset by the sight of Fen'Harel dismounting from the dragon's _saddle_. 

A **_saddle_ ** of all things!

Dragons are apex predators, creatures of the highest forms of magic.  There has never been any tall tale of someone trying, let alone, succeeding in using one as a mount.  Yet, here it is.  A Great Dragon, a creature of equal if not greater intelligence than the elvhen, allowing itself to be used as any other beast of burden.

Unless this guide has found some way to tame the beast?  Which forces Sylaise to re-examine just how dangerous Fen'Harel's guide is and just how terrifying a _Samsara_ can be. 

...

Sylaise cannot have that.  She cannot afford anymore competition among the Evanuris. 

Revasulahn needs to be dealt with.  

...She just needs to figure out how.

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. 
> 
> That last bit with Sulahn and the other Evanuris is just. Awful. I don't remember how it originally went. This is the closest as the original. 
> 
> Ugh. UGH!!!!


End file.
